Child of the White Winter
by Teh Twinnesses Presents
Summary: The War was won--but at a costly price. Hitsugaya Toushirou, celebrated captain, passed away on the last wintry day. Four years later, Kurosaki Karin finds a record of an emerald-eyed child in an old orphanage. Not HitsuKarin. No pairs as of yet.
1. Prologue: Winter's End

**Child of the White Winter**  
Kia Ixari & Aventria

_Inspired by "Reincarnation", written by Hitsu-taichou on FFN. We do not mean to copy; we merely felt the urge to write our own version of it, such an interesting storyline it is. Things will be a _lot_ different; just the idea of Toushirou dying and then being reincarnated is borrowed._

**Standard Disclaimer: **Bleach, the characters, and any recognizable trademarks of said series all belong to mangaka Tite Kubo-sensei and are rightfully disclaimed. The authors of this fanfiction own no more than the original characters used and the story's plot. _Anything else that needs to be disclaimed will be mentioned in their respective chapters._

**Warning(s):** This story will have **angst **(for sure) and will probably contain **blood, gore, and violence** from time to time. Deals with more character drama, but we still are obliged to warn you. This is **not HitsuKarin**. We don't swing for that pair--their relationship will remain purely platonic (sorry, fans). No established pairs as of yet; you will be warned if one comes up. As for **mature content**, we will warn you, and cut the scenes. Rated scenes will be posted on Kia's LiveJournal, as always (links on profile). Safety first.

* * *

**Prologue**  
Winter's End

* * *

-

**(1) senkaimon** – A gate that connects the human world to Soul Society.**  
(2) Arigato.** – "Thank you."**  
(3) Kidoushuu** – Demon Arts Division

-

* * *

-

_It's so bright._

_Cold._

_Familiar._

_Is it snowing…?_

_Yes, it seems so. The sky is mourning. Grey clouds. Ice. _

_Hyourinmaru… I hear you._

_Death… it's coming for me again. I see it. In the corner of my eye, I see it. Darkness… pitch black._

_Death…_

-

On a freezing, windy morning in late December, Captain Hitsugaya Toushirou, the youngest shinigami to attain captaincy in the entirety of Soul Society's long history, passed away.

The situation had been painfully simple. The young Captain, holding in his hand the dagger Urahara especially designed to destroy the Hougyoku, lunged towards a startled Aizen, all might and determination intended to shatter the stone. And he did manage to shatter it, at a costly price.

After the Hougyoku was shattered, the entire Winter War diminished to the relatively simple matter of getting rid of Aizen and the rest of the surviving Espada. It had all ended so quickly, so simply, that the survivors were left standing staring at the leftovers of a monster named war—wondering where to next.

Kurosaki Ichigo, a single dark figure against the lonely snow-cloaked field scattered with bloodied bodies and dismembered limbs, stood over two fallen forms—one enemy, one friend. His mind, a confusion of disconnected thoughts, threw at him needle-ended barbs. If only his feet were faster, if only he'd gotten the dagger first, if only he covered for the already injured captain, if, and if, and if…

But such thinking was pointless.

Here was death and a body, and that much they could not deny.

It was over, and they paid a large price.

-

* * *

-

"It is over, and we have paid a costly price," Kurotsuchi Mayuri, Twelfth Division Captain, announced. "But it cannot be helped. To attain costly things, costly prices need to be paid in exchange. We should be thankful that the war took only one captain—"

"Continue that sentence and there will be _two_ lost captains, Kurotsuchi," a deathly Ukitake snapped, abandoning all pretenses of politeness. Among those left behind, Ukitake was one of the most devastated. A naturally compassionate person, each death seemed to have eaten at his very soul. Their stronger warriors had persisted—an ecstatic Zaraki Kenpachi staggered home with heavy injuries, but only after taking down more than half the lower class Arrancars and three Espadas on his own; his loyal fukutaichou Kusajishi Yachiru, much to their surprise, took down two Espadas simultaneously as she exploded into a gleeful bloody massacre. But they had their casualties as well. They'd lost a fourth of their ranks, and this would burden the society for some time until they could recover.

"Hitsugaya-taichou's death is a heavy blow to our ranks, and if not for his sacrifice, we would not be standing here today," Yamamoto-soutaichou interrupted wisely before the argument could escalate into a full-scale skirmish. They most certainly did not need additional casualties. "I would ask of you not to slander his name, Kurotsuchi-taichou," he said, turning a mightily reproachful eye upon the Twelfth Captain. "Hitsugaya-taichou's memory and legacy will be forever held in honor, and to commemorate him a memorial day will be held each year during the winter. He held infinite potential—he was young, and was most definitely still growing. His strength and wisdom beyond years will be much missed."

There was a moment of silence. Ukitake had his eyes screwed shut—for the elder shinigami, Hitsugaya had been the closest thing to a son.

"We are now missing three captains out of thirteen," Yamamoto continued, heaving a deep sigh. "We will not be able to recover with our squads missing leaders. Thus, I would like all of your help in electing the three new replacing captains for the vacant posts—Divisions Five, Nine, and Ten. Central 46's reappointments are as of yet incomplete—they are unable to help us with the decisions. It will be up to us to decide for now."

Eager for the diversion, Kyouraku said, "Hisagi-fukutaichou seems to be doing well handling Division Nine on his own."

"I think he will make a fine captain," Unohana inputted in her ever-gentle voice. "He has a true heart and a right mind."

"But has he the qualifications of being a captain?" Soi Fong quizzed, ever critical. "I do not recall him possessing a _bankai_, unless, of course, he has completed it without letting anyone else know."

"The only seated officers who have attained _bankai_ level are Abarai Renji and Madarame Ikkaku. However, neither is willing to move forward to captaincy. Both have insisted they stay under their current captains." Yamamoto heaved another sigh. "We have seen Hisagi-fukutaichou and Matsumoto-fukutaichou's abilities during the Winter War. I am willing to make two more exceptions to the rule, as I have done with Zaraki-taichou—I say we accept both as captains even without their _bankai_. I am quite sure they are well within the point of materialization. They can finish the training while taking care of captaincy. We do not have time. What say you?"

"Will Matsumoto-fukutaichou accept this?" Frowning, Ukitake worried. "She has not taken Hitsugaya-kun's death too well. And speaking of his death, there is also Hinamori-fukutaichou, the poor child. Has she been notified?"

"She has heard from her room guards," Unohana replied, bowing her head. "It is my irresponsibility for not properly regulating the information she is allowed access to. She has undergone numerous nervous breakdowns the past twenty-two hours, and is currently sedated to prevent her from hurting herself and her guards any further. She has once tried to seriously injure—even kill—her guards in order to escape and seek out Aizen Sousuke's body and verify if he really is dead. The news of Hitsugaya-taichou's death did not help matters."

There was another pause of silence.

Soi Fong sighed and said, "It's better to keep her under heavy guard for now. She's well within fukutaichou class; she's capable of good _kidoujutsu_. She can cause trouble, and we have no need of any more trouble on our hands right now." She paused momentarily, before continuing, "I say we replace her."

"I agree," Unohana nodded. "Her condition is not yet stable, and she has been showing signs of psychosis due to trauma and stress." There were murmurs of agreement, before the conversation quickly turned another way. "This just means that we now need a captain _and_ a vice captain for Division Five," Unohana concluded with a weary look. "Where do we look?"

"How about Shinigami Substitute, Kurosaki Ichigo?" Ukitake suggested with half a smile. "It's about time we recognize his abilities. He certainly is of captain-class, and he has achieved _bankai_."

"The only problem with that… _child_ is that he is yet uneducated," Kuchiki Byakuya spoke for the first time, his tone acid. It was by now a well-known fact that the noble heir did not take well to their strange human shinigami and his friends. The reasons were_ supposedly _unknown, but people knew better. Kuchiki Byakuya was far too overprotective of his little sister; this fact, after all, was a well-protected, albeit a well-known secret (read: common knowledge) throughout the ranks.

"Then all the more reason to give him a seated position—vice captain, perhaps," Ukitake insisted, nodding eagerly. "Kurosaki-kun has lots of room to grow. We need to cultivate the talent as much as we can. We need strong warriors—this war has shown us that despite what we seem, we are not infallible after all."

"Then who do you suggest we put as captain, if not the human child?" Kurotsuchi prodded.

"I had Hirako Shinji in mind," Ukitake said, earning raised eyebrows. The Vizards were a huge asset to them during the battles, and they would have certainly lost without the help, however reluctant. The fact that Hirako was Division Five's former captain also added to the advantages—it would be an easier transition. "If we can persuade him, he would once again make a wonderful captain."

"If we can persuade him, that is," Soi Fong remarked dryly. "He hates shinigami. How do you hope to sway his opinions?"

When Ukitake answered with a sigh, the rest of them wearily turned and tried to find another option.

"By the way," Kyouraku cut in. "Who will be captain for the Third Division?"

"Ah, that." Yamamoto's eyes crinkled at the edges. "Since Central 46 is no longer operational and questions are raised regarding their integrity in the past, certain… decisions of theirs can be declared null. I have personally talked to a very qualified person to fill in as the Third Division's captain, and he has agreed upon several conditions—all of which actually work towards our favor." The aged warrior wore a faint smile. "Starting tomorrow, Urahara Kisuke will rejoin our ranks."

-

* * *

-

"_Vice captain?!_ ME?!" Ichigo all but shrieked. "You have _got_ to be—I can't—I'm _human_, damnit!"

"Ichigo, language!" hissed Rukia, mindfully eyeing the other captains in presence. She was shocked herself—not that she doubted Ichigo's capabilities. It was just all so sudden. It hasn't even been a day yet, she mused… and yet she knew the captains were worried. As long as gaps were left unattended to, matters within Seireitei were bound to be unstable, and they could not afford instability right now. _Especially_ now.

"We can arrange for a private _senkaimon _(1) for you so you can be able to travel back and forth both worlds," Ukitake hurried to explain. "We understand that you have your family to return to, and you have your life in the other world, but think about it. Apart from the fact that Soul Society needs you, your promotion is just a matter of time. You are already captain-class in terms of ability—in truth, the only thing preventing you from captaincy is the fact that you still aren't knowledgeable enough to handle the work. You need to be educated first. Being a vice captain is a full-time job, which means you get paid full-time as well. That will relieve you of having to work in the real world as well after you finish your schooling—you can dedicate your time to your shinigami duties."

Scowl on his face, Ichigo barked, "Who's to be my captain?"

"We are still thinking on the matter," Yamamoto replied. "We might call upon Hirako Shinji."

"_HIRAKO?!_" Ichigo bellowed.

"Ichigo!"

"The _hell_ I'm gonna serve under Hirako!" Ichigo hissed aggressively.

"Ah, but Hirako-kun was the taichou for the Fifth long ago," Kyouraku explained. "Instead of electing a new one, it will be much easier if an old captain returns."

"Accept it already, Ichigo," Renji goaded from the sidelines. Both he and Ikkaku had hoped for this; neither of them wanted to leave their current seats, and as such, the only other person worthy of being captain was Ichigo. By accepting the offer, Ichigo would take the pressure off their shoulders.

"It won't be too bad," Ikkaku shrugged. "You'll share some paperwork with your captain, and watch over your squad… that's it. Of course, you can also just give your paperwork to someone else like what Zaraki-taichou and our fukutaichou does. Yumichika handles our squad's paperwork."

Just then, Matsumoto and Hisagi both walked into the room garbed in the customary white _haori_ designated for captains. Matsumoto still wore a grave countenance, yet to recover from the loss of her beloved captain. However, she seemed determined to fill the place that was emptied, as she displayed by walking resolutely into the room, head held high.

"Ninth Division Captain Hisagi Shuuhei, Tenth Division Captain Matsumoto Rangiku, welcome," Yamamoto said. "I trust you have both been informed of the circumstances."

"Yes, sir," both of them replied.

"Good," the old Soutaichou nodded, turning his eyes back towards Ichigo. "Shinigami Substitute, Kurosaki Ichigo, you are hereby declared the Fifth Division's Vice Captain from this day onwards, and shall take hold of all responsibilities until a proper captain has been secured."

"Huh—what—wait—oi!!"

"Pardon my intrusion," Rukia bowed, cutting off Ichigo by an elbow before the boy could make any further blunders. "Ichigo is uneducated in the ways of the shinigami realm and hasn't the faintest idea how to care for an entire division on his own. He will probably cause more trouble than is necessary." Ichigo balked, and both Renji and Ikkaku messily hid snickers behind pretentious coughs. "However, if Yamamoto-soutaichou will allow me, I shall take it upon myself to temporarily assist Ichigo—_Kurosaki-fukutaichou _through the motions until he is able to function on his own."

"Permission granted," Yamamoto immediately replied, as if he had expected Rukia's voluntary effort to save Ichigo's hide all along. "I shall leave it to the Twelfth Division and the Kidoushuu (3) to take care of the _senkaimon_."

Taking that as a dismissal, she lowered her head. "Thank you very much," Rukia intoned, before grabbing Ichigo's collar and bodily dragging him out of the room.

-

* * *

-

Ukitake sighed, cradling his cup of tea, the one source of heat he had against the biting winter cold. Ironic how the weather seemed to echo Seireitei's lament. Today was a day of sorrow, dedicated for those who had passed away. War was always, always unsightly. Yet even though they knew this fact, all of them bravely marched into its folds. But in the end, knowing was different from experiencing the actual agony of losing friends and fellow warriors to the enemy.

"Ukitake-taichou," a somewhat subdued Kiyone called from the inner partitions of the room. Ukitake could faintly see Sentarou's form behind her in the darkness. "The cold will not do your body good."

"I'm fine, Kiyone," he said with a strained smile. "I just… want to see the snow."

His subordinates remained silent, knowing full well that Ukitake was grieving for their lost prodigy captain. After a few moments of silence, Sentarou cleared his throat. "At least wear thicker clothing, taichou. Or take your blanket with you." In response to the suggestion, Kiyone shuffled forward and took the blanket laid over the futon's comforter, handing it to Ukitake.

"Arigato (2)," murmured Ukitake, drawing the blanket around his shoulders. He uttered a sigh, his eyes returning to the unrelenting snow. Covered in a blanket of whiteness, Seireitei was in full mourning. It was as if the sky itself was saying goodbye to Hitsugaya Toushirou by giving them this season of never-ending ice and snow—a tribute to the fallen warrior who had always loved the harsh cold.

The entire thirteen divisions carried or tied around their arms white sashes with a lotus, viridian in color, in commemoration of the Tenth Division's late captain, now Soul Society's proclaimed hero. Ukitake knew Matsumoto tied hers around her neck like a scarf, and Kurosaki Ichigo, having always been the odd one out, decided he would tie his scarf around Zangetsu's hilt.

"Taichou, you should eat," Kiyone silently remarked, daring to break the almost oppressing silence. She placed a tray of food in front of Ukitake—a bowl of freshly cooked rice, a steaming bowl of _miso_ soup, and shrimp tempura. "Today will be Hitsugaya-taichou's funeral; you will need your strength."

As Ukitake took his chopsticks in hand, Sentarou, seeking to veer the conversation away from depressing matters, cleared his throat. "Taichou, has there been any decision as to who will take over as Hisagi-fuku—ah, no, Hisagi-taichou's vice?"

"From what I've heard, the current third seat will take over as vice captain," Ukitake replied. "Same goes for Matsumoto-taichou."

He himself had thought Kuchiki Rukia. She was certainly skilled and powerful enough to take on the seat of a vice captain, which was not all that difficult of a work, especially if the captain was responsible enough. However, returning one tiring afternoon to his office, an innocent—albeit completely out of place—single sakura petal lay upon his vacant desk: a warning. Beside it was a shredded slip of paper Ukitake recognized as a piece of what was the recommendation letter. He remembered mentioning to the rest of the captains in passing that he was dealing with the transfer papers, and that if anyone ever needed anything regarding those papers, he was responsible for them. Immediately, he understood. He sent a note to Yamamoto-soutaichou, rescinding his nomination for Kuchiki Rukia. It was wise not to trifle with the overprotective Sixth Division Captain when he was fending for his precious little sister's general safety.

It was a week after the Winter War's end, and things were finally settling down—but along with the relative peace settled the sorrow. The previous day was declared as an official holiday, the Day of Mourning for the victims of the Winter War. And today was late Hitsugaya Toushirou-taichou's Memorial Day—also a declared official holiday. The funeral was to be held in the afternoon, during which the captain's remains—ashes crystallized by ice—were to be placed in a jar and buried where the old Soukyoku had been standing. The sword, Hyourinmaru, was to be displayed over the grave as a shrine, frozen inside a column of eternal ice.

"Ukitake-taichou," Kiyone spoke once more.

"Hmm?"

"Could… could you tell us about Hitsugaya-taichou?"

Ukitake raised an eyebrow and turned to look at Kiyone. Sentarou stiffened and nudged her with an elbow, a warning not to go further. But Kiyone determinedly looked up at Ukitake, bent on ignoring whatever warning her fellow vice captain insisted on giving her.

"Why the sudden curiosity, Kiyone?"

"I-I just wanted to know more about Hitsugaya-taichou, sir!" Kiyone hurried to reply. "I never really knew him quite well… and since we _are_ commemorating him, I thought I'd ask. I only ever knew him as the young prodigy…"

"Ah," Ukitake smiled gently, tipping his head backwards in thought. "Mm. Well, he is—was a prodigy in every sense. The first time I met him was during a visit to the academy—it was an early visit. I was curious about the rumors floating around—that there was a kid who has only been in the academy for three months and was already capable of communicating with his _zanpakutou_."

"Three _months_?!" yelped both Sentarou and Kiyone.

"Amazing, isn't it?" chuckled Ukitake. "Controlling _reiryoku_ aside, he'd already found his _zanpakutou_, learned its name, and was well on his way working on synchronizing with it to achieve _shikai_. Normally, it takes a year or two before a beginner even manages to _hear_ the _zanpakutou_'s voice—much less learn the _name_ of it."

Placing a piece of tempura in his mouth, he chewed for a moment, before continuing for his dumbstruck companions. "So I sought him out, and there I found him, on his own, sitting under a tree and meditating. It was late fall, and the wind was starting to chill, but he had only normal clothing—he didn't even bother with a thin scarf, even just to warm his face. He had his sword in his lap—I was hesitant to disturb him, but he was the one who spoke first. He politely asked me what I wanted, and I simply said I was curious to get to know the dubbed child prodigy. I still remember how he scowled at being called a 'child'. About three months later, I would hear of a young boy—the youngest and fastest ever, beating Ichimaru Gin's record of one year—graduating from the academy after only six months."

"_SIX MONTHS!_" a stunned Kiyone screeched. She herself had taken two and a half years in the Academy—and even then, she had been the earliest in her batch. Two and a half years was an accomplishment, since most students took an average of four to five years—but _six months_ made her look like an utter idiot. Or made Hitsugaya Toushirou an utter genius.

"Even then, he was as aloof and cold as ever," Ukitake continued without missing a beat. "Maybe it was because his soul was tied to an ice dragon, but I don't really know for sure. He was as clipped and formal as Kuchiki-taichou when I came to congratulate him. By then he was already seated as a third officer within the Tenth Division—the previous captain had offered him the position, having seen that he held much promise. He never bragged, though. He was quiet, kept to himself, worked hard… within another four months, he was promoted to captaincy. The previous captain left for the Royal Army after giving him the captain's seat—he was only about three decades old, the youngest ever to reach the highest rank."

"It was unheard of, his speedy procession. He practically skipped through all the levels—and when he was promoted as captain, he was fully qualified. He had achieved _bankai_, and his _reiryoku _levels ranked eighth among the thirteen captains, stepping over Unohana-taichou and Soi Fong-taichou, who both neither need nor use much _reiryoku_. His _reiryoku_ grew as he accumulated more years of being a shinigami—I'm quite sure he was still in the process of growing before he died."

Ukitake placed his chopsticks neatly upon his bowl, having finished his lunch. "It was not easy for the Tenth Division to accept him as their captain just like that, even though the previous captain had acknowledged him. But having Matsumoto-taichou as his vice had its advantages—he eventually managed to win over his subordinates with the help of her… _charm_. He really does care of his division—I've heard that whenever someone was injured, he would personally go over at the end of the day and see them. Ironically enough, it was Matsumoto-taichou who found him in Rukongai only about a year prior and persuaded him to be a shinigami."

Both Kiyone and Sentarou were similarly speechless. It was common knowledge that Hitsugaya Toushirou was a praise-worthy character—goodness, that young and a captain?—but they never really _knew_ the story behind the prodigy. Perhaps the only person who actually knew where the deceased captain came from was Hinamori Momo, but it was quite impossible to ask her to relay a coherent story at the present moment, overcome with grief as she was.

"Well," Ukitake sighed, rising from his seated position. "Let's get ready. The funeral is within an hour."

-

* * *

-

_I lie on my bed, my fingers feverishly creasing the sheets. My eyes look straight up at the ceiling, but I do not see. There's a desperate cry welling at the back of my throat, but I cannot even utter a scream. I feel cold steel around my wrists and ankles—they chain me to this agony. Darkness cloaks my vision, silence muffles my ears. My back is numb from arching in vain, trying to escape the shackles. Hot tears stream down my cheeks and trickle onto the pillow behind my head._

_Dare I believe them? Is it true?_

_The answer is clear._

_My Aizen-sama is not dead. _Cannot _be dead. I refuse to believe them, they who try to rip me away from my captain, they who have betrayed Aizen-sama—betrayed _us_. _

_Aizen-sama must have had a reason for siding with the Hollows—yes, Hueco Mundo was the only place he could go without Seireitei shadowing his heels! That must be it. It would be far too dangerous to go to the human world, after all… yes, yes, that's it! And he must be waiting for me—I am his vice__ captain__, I need to help him!_

_I hear the door open—they've come once again. They insist on feeding me, I refuse to take this food. I know, I can feel, this food is poison. They long to kill me, so I will not be able to aid Aizen-sama—traitors! Even Hitsugaya-kun—_

_An anguished cry is ripped from my throat, and it startles the medics. One of them rushes to my side, making sure I am firmly strapped down on the scantily cushioned bed._

_Hitsugaya-kun, oh I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have attacked you, shouldn't have doubted you—_

"_Calm down, Hinamori-fukutaichou," one of them says. "Calm down—no one is here to hurt you."_

"_Hitsugaya-kun, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry—"_

"_Sedate her," a medic calmly orders._

_I thrash. "No! No!! Let me—no, I need to see—Aizen-sama—where is he, tell me where he is!!" _

"_Hinamori-fukutaichou—"A burst of uncontrolled _reiryoku_ and my arms are free, flailing and thrashing about above me. I feel the impact as my elbow hits a cheek and my palm hits a side of the head. Another burst—blood spills upon the floor._

"_Nekonome-san, are you alright?" I've wounded her, one of the regular medics—a wide gash on her cheek, slanting upwards and ending dangerously near her eye._

_Nekonome snarls. Her face contorts in barely suppressed anger and frustration. "Aizen Sousuke is _DEAD_, Hinamori-_san_. Dead, you hear me? He's no longer—"_

"_AIZEN-SAMA IS NOT DEAD!!" I scream with all my might—the _reiryoku_ I prize myself for controlling flawlessly now fluctuates around me in a chaotic pulse. My legs are freed, and I scamper from the bed. "AIZEN-SAMA IS NOT DEAD! AIZEN-SAMA IS ALIVE, HE'S WAITING FOR ME!"_

_My arms lash out, and a medic drops down to the floor, unconscious. A gash on the head bleeds red and stains the floor. Another medic lunges for me, but is thrown back against the wall—unconscious. I shove Nekonome aside, and she crumples to the floor as her wound profusely bleeds against her efforts to stem it._

_Nobody would be able to stop me. I would go to Aizen-sama—he needs me, and I will let no one, no one—!!_

_I stumble through the empty hallways, dark and damp. Underground, I was underground. The Fourth Division's secured chambers for hostile patients. Right beside the secure morgue reserved for special cases—the morgue. I stopped. They think Aizen-sama is dead—but of course he's not, no, he _can't_ be—and they might have a corpse, a fake one, an illusion, by Aizen-sama, veiling their eyes from the truth… _

_A strangled sob escapes my mouth, and I clamp it down with a cold palm. My feet are bare and painful against the freezing wood. My clothes scant against the pervading cold. A lone medic turns the corner, and startled, yells—I silence him with a shock of _reiryoku_. _

_Before I knew it I was a few feet away from the morgue, and the door was open—_

"_Aizen-sama…" _

_My breath fogged. The cold was forbidding. I run to the single table standing in the middle of the sparse room, tripping over the edges of the thin, threadbare yukata I wear._

"_Aizen-sama, Aizen-sama!" By now it was a mantra flowing freely from my lips, a prayer, a wish, a litany. That single name was a panacea to all my pains, a cure to the horror tormenting my worn and frayed mind. I reached for the sheet and lifted._

_And my breath stilled._

-

* * *

-

Twelve captains and thirteen vice captains made their way towards the Soukyoku's cliff, where Hitsugaya Toushirou's memorial grave was to be placed. Above them the Shrine of Penitence watches in all its forbidding white glory, its outlines blurred against the white-grey snowy sky. A number of lower rank officers brought up their rear.

"Ukitake-taichou, are you alright?" Kiyone murmured from behind the white-haired captain. She received a simple resolute nod. Biting her lip, she turned to Sentarou for help, but both of them knew all their efforts were in vain. They would not be able to convince their captain to retire into his private quarters. Hail or snow, Ukitake was determined to see their savior off properly.

Just then, two shinigamis came running up behind them and approached Isane, whispering in her ear urgently. A slight widening of her eyes was enough to tell Ukitake that something of importance had happened, and as he expected, Isane leaned over to Unohana to report.

As soon as the vice captain was finished, Unohana stopped. The gentle lady had a perturbed expression upon her face as she turned to the rest of them.

"What is it, Unohana-taichou?" asked Yamamoto.

"An urgent report: hostile patient, Hinamori Momo has escaped from her confinement, injuring three medics and killing two. She has headed for the secured morgue, seeking out Aizen Sousuke's corpse. She has been duly apprehended and is currently being kept under strict surveillance within secure chambers."

-

* * *

-

Hinamori still was. Just was. Barely was.

And all that was, was darkness. A void so deep and so empty that what was left of her life was sucked into this abyss of anguish. She could do nothing but scream, long bloodcurdling cries of anguish, begging for relief, for the help that she has denied herself.

Try as she might she could not fool herself into fully believing that it was a fake corpse. Seeing the body was different from what she had imagined, what she had expected. Part of her knew, _just knew_, that this was not real—_not real!!_—but her heart screamed and scratched at her chest and somehow _knew_, just knew, that this_ was_ real. Which was why she could not stop screaming.

It was as if molten fire had been poured into her bones, so great was the pain. The top of her skull might have been sawed off and a bucket of lava poured in, searing her nerves. But there was no red lava or molten fire. There was only pitch darkness as she sank deeper and deeper, away from the light.

_Aizen-sama is dead._

And this last, singular truth was what now swarmed his mind, spinning around the darkness.

He wasn't _meant_ to die.

He wasn't _meant_ to be pulled away from her like this, so suddenly, so painfully, so _mercilessly_.

And that was why. She was. Screaming.

But now even the screaming was running out. The jaws of silence gaped from the very throat of this darkness. She wants to scream, only to make a sound, some sound, because sound itself would be something to rip her out of the anguish—but could not.

If only she could scream, her voice would keep her company.

If only she could cry, her tears would be a welcome companion.

If only, if only…

She does not feel the hands hoisting her limp body up from the cold floor, does not hear the agitated voices conversing in hushed tones. All she knows is darkness. All she knows is emptiness.

_Aizen-sama…_

-

* * *

-

Matsumoto knelt in front of the frozen pillar of ice set upon a slab of polished stone, a grave marker most fitting for her precious captain. The sword was set upright inside the column, still in _shikai_ form, with the chain scythe wrapped around the bare blade. Wound around the pillar, protecting the sword eternally frozen inside, was the icy likeness of the dragon god Hyourinmaru, the very same heavenly guardian Hitsugaya Toushirou wielded. The dragon peered at them with eyes made of sparkling emeralds, stern and elegant.

Gently, she laid by the grave a bouquet of immaculate white lotus—her captain's symbol. "Sleep well, taichou. You've done well. You deserve the rest."

Tears burned their way down her cheeks, her short, cropped hair whipping about in the wind. Her captain had always been a workaholic, drowning himself within paperwork and duties. Never a minute for himself and his own well-being. Had she not been there to persuade her captain to loosen up once in a while, Matsumoto knew he would have collapsed early on.

What drove him to such lengths to excel, she never really understood. Perhaps she never will.

A hand held her shoulder. "Matsumoto-taichou," Abarai Renji's calm voice shook her out of her reverie.

She nodded, never once taking her eyes from the amethyst-eyed dragon effigy.

_I won't fail you, taichou. I promise._

-

* * *

-

"…seven… eight… nine… ten! Breathe."

An assisting nurse placed a warm hand upon the distended belly, massaging and coaxing, gently, gently, gently. The mother, a pale-skinned beautiful young girl, huffed and puffed, face contorted in distress. She was most probably no more than sixteen or seventeen, barely an adult and yet already carrying a burden on her own. The poor child had staggered into the emergency room, pale under the dark stormy sky, the first contractions of a premature delivery racking her tiny frame. It was but five days before Christmas—December 20th—and the hospital was a tad short of staff, but fortune smiled upon the girl. Their best midwife was around to take care of her.

"Push. Push with _all_ your might, young lady," the experienced midwife encouraged her. "Just a bit more—I can see your child, it's crowning! Push!"

The girl clamped her mouth shut and gave one brave push, a strangled scream ripping within her throat. She didn't dare let go, though—the nurse gave explicit instructions not to waste her energy screaming. This was pain beyond a world of pain, but she had to be brave, if only for the child.

"Yes, push! Just a bit more—yes—"

A wail.

"A healthy baby boy!" the midwife pronounced, and the nurses all sagged with relief. Premature birth with such a young, visibly underfed mother was dangerous—but they'd made it through. "A bit small, though. But he will be fine."

The cord was cut, and the child was cleaned of the blood and fluids. Soon, he was wrapped in a soft, downy white blanket, and then handed to his mother. Young as she was, the girl was in awe. She had given birth to _life._ A tired smile tugged at the corners of her lips, and she gently cradled the precious fruit of her flesh.

As she stared down into the peaceful baby's face, she could not help but notice how much the child looked like its father.

"What are you naming him?" asked one of the nurses.

The baby, as if knowing he was the topic of conversation, chose to open his eyes. Tiny, tiny lashes fluttered and eyelids lifted to reveal brilliant eyes of Persian green.

"Toushirou," the young mother smiled. "Child of the white winter."

The baby gurgled and gave a small smile.

Outside, a blizzard, the worst in centuries, raged on. In the distance, a dragon's triumphant roar echoed into the bleached sky.

-

* * *

**Tsuzuku**_  
(__R__evised Version)_

* * *

**Kia Ixari & Aventria**_  
First Draft: 05.11.08  
__Uploaded: 08.17.08  
Last Revised: 08.07.08_


	2. I: Snowstorm

**Child of the White Winter**  
_Kia Ixari & Aventria_

No. Sadly, this is not Hitsugaya/Karin. Seriously. I don't go for that pair, and neither does Tria, so this story will not contain any such material. Neither of us swing that way.

**Warning(s):** Mild cussing.

* * *

**I**  
Snowstorm

* * *

-

"Yuzu, wake up." Karin gently nudged her twin. The younger girl had fallen asleep along the ride, naturally vulnerable against cold weather and cloudy mornings. "Oi. We're here."

Yuzu blearily lifted her head from her sister's shoulder, rubbing at her eyes and yawning. "Already?" She stretched. "I wanted to sleep a bit more…"

Karin stood and retrieved their bags from the overhead rack, handing her sister an extra sweater. Yuzu was a responsible girl, but at times, she became far too much so, sacrificing her own wellbeing for another's. It was common knowledge between the four of them in the family. After all, the role of being the lady of the household was taken up by Yuzu after their mother's death.

"Bundle up. It's awful outside," Karin warned her.

Yuzu peered out the window, squinting to see through the heavy blizzard. "We have to walk through _that_?"

"Well, it's not like we have any choice," Karin shrugged. "We can't control the weather, you know."

"Oi, Kurosaki! We'll leave you behind if you don't move it!"

"Hai, hai," the elder of the twins sighed. "Come on, Yuzu."

The two of them followed after the queue of high school students leaving their buses and heading for the shrouded form of the building. Far ahead, Karin could see their teacher holding a flashlight, and even further, the building's lobby lights. She knew that the cathedral was majestic in broad daylight, having seen it once in passing when she had visited Ichigo a few months ago.

After graduating from high school two years ago, her elder brother was (miraculously enough) accepted into a medical university in a neighboring town two hours away from Karakura, where he was currently studying to inherit their family's clinic business. To cut down the bills, the four of them—Ichigo, Ishida, Orihime, and Chad—decided they would pick out a four-room condominium near the university and split the food and rent. They had all aimed and tested for the same university—Ishida in order to follow after his father's footsteps despite his apparent dislike for said parent, Orihime in her interest with healing (Karin heard she wanted to find a way to use her powers for people), and Chad to be able to earn enough money to support himself and his aging grandfather in Mexico.

The apartment they had rented was a mere few blocks away, right beside a park and a plaza that neighbored the university. During the one time Karin and Yuzu visited the four of them at a whim, Ichigo walked them around the town as a tour—the cathedral was one of the highlights. Yuzu had fallen in love with it, and brought pictures back home to Karakura. Showed them to the entire class, and then proceeded to pester the teachers into a school tour. Interested, one of their teachers called the cathedral, found that it was also an orphanage, and made it so that their end-of-the-year Christmas outreach program would be held there.

"W-Wait for m-me, K-Karin!"

Karin felt a hand grab her elbow—she looked back and found Yuzu folding under the lashing winds. Her twin sister was her complete opposite, mild-mannered and frail. Though slender, Yuzu was not athletic, and loathed any heavy muscle work. "Take it easy," she said, slipping an arm around her sister's waist in support.

"W-Why did this blizzard have t-to come t-today?" Yuzu's teeth were chattering as they half-sprinted the last few steps towards the lobby. Karin wordlessly handed her sister a mug of hot chocolate the cathedral's helpers were handing out. The room was already warming her body; having an athlete's endurance always came in handy.

Looking around the cathedral's lobby, she found herself mildly awed. It wasn't her first time seeing inside a cathedral, but this one proved to be far bigger and grander than any she'd seen. However, before she could fully marvel at the architecture and grandeur, a throng of little children were led in by a few adults.

Behind her, Yuzu squealed. "How cute!"

She shook her head. Unlike her twin, she was not all that fond of little children. She watched as Yuzu rushed over and greeted the 'cute little angels'.

"Yuzu-chan really loves kids, doesn't she," remarked one of their classmates, Nanami. "Adorable. Even more so in a maid costume. I wonder if she has a boyfrie—"

"You'd better not continue that thought, Nanami­-_kun_," Karin scowled. "Lay a single finger on my sister, you sick pervert, and I'll make sure you'll never lay a finger on anything else in your entire life."

"Maa, maa, Karin-chan," Megumi, a classmate and fellow member of the girl's soccer club, said in an attempt to douse Karin's anger. "Nanami's just being the idiot he is. Ignore him."

Karin leveled the said idiot with a glare that would make even a grown man fold.

"Anyway, come on." Megumi grabbed her arm and dragged her towards the information desk. "We might be able to avoid the dirty work if we volunteer for the desk job early. I know you just about loathe dealing with little children, and you know I do too. So let's ignore Nanami's idiocy and put our time to good use."

Soon they were seated comfortably behind the welcome desk, with one of the orphanage's workers sitting with them, guiding them through what needed to be done. A huge bulk of it was paperwork—not a very exciting prospect, but a world's worth better than dealing with the snotty little babies Yuzu so loved.

Karin sifted mindlessly through the folders, faintly curious of their contents. She expected diverse backgrounds from the children, and she was not disappointed—some of them were taken from destroyed families, others orphaned by accidents, a few more from hospitals where mothers have died from childbirth, and a couple picked up from the streets. Karin was immensely thankful she did not have to suffer the same circumstances these children had to go through—she had a family, and though they were now missing a mother, they were still happy.

She sighed and opened the next folder, keeping at her job of rearranging the profiles inside by date of arrival at the orphanage. She laid out the files neatly—May eleventh of 2005, August fifteenth of 2005, January 2006, September 2006, December 2006—

_What…?_

Her eyes refused to move from the little child's picture. Her hands were frozen still. The noise and chatter around her faded into a faint buzz at the back of her head. The details written in black ink was stark against the white paper, scalding her eyes.

_Born 20__th__ of December 2006. Given name Toushirou, family name Takeshima (mother). Mother passed away of childbed fever shortly after birth. Arrived at orphanage from Nishitama General Hospital, 05 January 2007. No known relatives._

Karin's eyes once more settled upon the small square picture pinned with the set of papers. Hair as white as pure snow, eyes as brilliant as polished emeralds—there was no mistake.

_Toushirou._

She could still clearly remember, four and a half years ago, when she first met the scowling white-haired boy. She'd been kicking her ball around in its net, and by mistake let it escape and tumble down the hill towards the busy road. Toushirou had saved the ball, passed it back to her, and then turned and walked away—it was a fleeting meeting, but that was the first. They would meet again atop a hill overlooking a beautiful sunset, where she would insist the boy—whom she honestly mistook as a fellow elementary student—help her and her makeshift soccer team. Much later, she would find out that Toushirou, like her brother, was a shinigami. And a captain at that.

_But how? Ichi-nii said Toushirou died during the big war…_

She bit her lip and turned abruptly towards the information lady actively conversing with Megumi. "Excuse me—can you point me to where this child is?" Karin showed her the picture, and was met with a sad smile.

"Ah, Toushirou-kun," the lady sighed.

Karin cursed inwardly, hoping against hope, praying no one had adopted the boy yet. "He's still here, right?"

Megumi raised an eyebrow. "Do you know him, Karin-chan?"

"…kind of."

"You do?" the lady asked, surprised. Then she sank back to her seat, slumping with disappointment. "That's… that's too bad. Toushirou-kun passed away two weeks ago."

Karin was floored.

"What? Wait—how? He should only be—what, three? Four years old? Was he sick?"

"Oh, no," the lady chuckled. "Toushirou-kun was a healthy young boy, if a tad small for his age. Very smart, very quiet. Loved books. Mature. Never made trouble. Had quite an appetite—he loved watermelons. But—well, I wouldn't expect you to know about the bomb explosion at the nearby playground two weeks ago, given you're from the neighboring town."

"Bomb?" Karin and Megumi both echoed in alarm.

The lady nodded. "A sick somebody planted a bomb over there and wrecked the entire place. We lost five—five children." The lady paused, pursing her lips. "Toushirou-kun was reading under his favorite tree as usual. It wasn't the actual explosion that killed him, the doctors said. The shock probably did the damage," she relayed. Heaving a sigh, she took the papers from Karin's hands. "We haven't updated the paperwork yet, but the online records should already show the date and reason of his death. It's a sad thing… Toushirou-kun was very smart, and surely would have had a good future ahead of him. The church did the funeral service four days after the blast."

Karin hissed in disappointment.

_Wait—if he hasn't been sent over to Soul Society yet, then Ichi-nii might be able to find his soul somewhere around the area! He couldn't have gotten too far… _

She gnawed at her lip anxiously for a minute, contemplating the odds. Was she too late? Or was there still time? Was Toushirou still wandering somewhere near the playground? Or—she cursed—had the Hollows gotten to the defenseless child already? Karin had no idea whether his memories as a shinigami were bound to come back, but one thing was for sure—Hollows would chase after that child, what with that insanely powerful reiryoku.

Hurriedly extricating herself from the small information circle, Karin shuffled towards one of the secluded corners and pulled out her cellphone. Hitting a speed dial, she held the ringing phone to her ear. In impatience, she shifted her weight left and right, to and fro, waiting, urging her brother to pick up.

She didn't want to think of what would happen if they were too late.

"Hello—Ichi-nii?"

-

* * *

-

"Uwah… it's horrible outside!" Orihime exclaimed. Her nose was almost pressed up against the cold glass, her warm breath fogging it. The blizzard raged on, dark clouds showing no signs of relenting.

"Campus will probably be closed tomorrow as well," Chad remarked from his perch on the couch.

The three of them—Orihime, Chad, and Ichigo—were waiting for lunch to be served. Orihime had initially offered her help, but the three of them flat out refused to let her anywhere near the kitchen anymore—not since their fateful first night in the condominium two years ago. They had learned their lesson—Orihime was a strange girl, and her strangeness extended to her culinary… _exploits_. Since then, Ishida had been in charge of breakfast, dinner, and the occasional lunch. Often, they ate lunch outside or in campus, each having their own schedule. But there were also days like these when they were stuck home—as thus, lunch was left to the only reliable cook who would be able to feed them without unintentionally inflicting fatal injuries. Each of them was in charge of their own laundry; Chad, Ichigo and Orihime took care of groceries, cleaning, and all the other maintenance chores.

"Oh, Ichigo-kun," Orihime turned. Ever since the four of them had started living together, Orihime had taken to Ichigo's first name. "Are Yuzu-chan and Karin-chan still coming to town for their outreach trip?"

"I'm not sure," shrugged Ichigo. "I'll ring them later. If they're in town, I'll ask them to stop by if they can."

There was a comfortable pause, the silence filled in only by the soft notes of a song Orihime favored.

"Still," Orihime sighed, leaning over the couch's arm and cupping her chin in her palm. "Don't you think this winter storm is strange? It's been going on for more than a week now. On top of that, there was nothing like this on the forecasts."

"I don't feel any questionable reiatsu," shrugged Ichigo. Both Ishida and Orihime, the most sensitive of the four of them, were insisting that the storm was unnatural. Ever since Ishida voiced his concern, Ichigo had taken to spreading his senses to cover the entire town, at times even going as far as checking the neighboring Karakura. But he felt nothing out of the ordinary—no excessively powerful Hollows, no stray Arrancars, and certainly no wandering fallen Espada (for there were still a few remaining uncaught). Even if Ichigo did not check the neighborhood himself, they were bound to be notified by Soul Society's watchers—Karakura town and its surroundings, after all, had a high-density of soul particles.

"I don't feel anything either," Ishida remarked as he carried started laying out their lunch on the table. Orihime stood and went over to help him. "But just because we don't feel anything doesn't mean nothing's out there."

"But if we don't feel anything, then how are we supposed to do something about it, whatever _it_ is?" Ichigo sighed in exasperation, letting his head fall against the sofa's headrest.

"Ichigo."

"What?"

"Your phone's ringing," Chad pointed out.

"Is it? Ah, where did I…" The orange-haired young man shuffled in his pockets and turned out empty-handed. He stood and sprinted to his room—as soon as he opened the door, and indignant stuffed Kon bounced out, all yells and curses. He found his phone under a pillow on his bed and flipped it open, all the while marveling at Chad's hellishly sharp ears. "Karin?"

"Hello, Ichi-nii?"

Ichigo frowned. His sister sounded… off. "What's up?"

"Uh, do you remember the outreach trip I told you about, the one at the orphanage?"

He smiled. Just like Karin—straight to the point, no dilly-dally. He gathered she would make a good businesswoman. "Yeah, it was supposed to be today, right? Are you at the orphanage already? Are you still doing the program in this terrible weather?"

"Yeah—we're at the orphanage right now." Ichigo could hear children's shrieks of laughter from the background. "Ichi-nii, do you… do you remember Toushirou? The white-haired kid shinigami who came here one time?"

The frown returned to Ichigo's face, deeper and more pronounced this time. He had revealed everything to Yuzu and Karin with the help of his father after the Winter War, and impressed upon them the importance of keeping the secret. They were both accepting of it, though Yuzu was slightly frightened, and Karin was absolutely miffed at being left out. It certainly made Rukia's coming and going easier to explain, as well as the occasional presence of "Ichi-nii's shady friends" (namely Renji, Ikkaku, and crew).

However, Karin was quite inquisitive, and had the tendency to hear things she was not supposed to hear, or notice things she was not supposed to notice. In the end, Ichigo and Isshin both had no choice but to let the elder twin in on what was going on instead of constantly catching her eavesdropping or having her ask uncomfortable questions that would require lies and cover-ups. They understood that Karin needed to know what was going on around her—in more ways than one, Karin was more similar to father and son. Yuzu was carefully kept in the partial dark, all for the delicate girl's peace of mind.

However, in exchange for the knowledge, it was sworn that matters would only be discussed in private, when it was of utmost importance, or if it presented any danger to any one member of their family. After all, Karin was human and not a shinigami—they were not supposed to give her any knowledge at all.

"Of course I do," Ichigo replied in a subdued voice. The pain of Toushirou's death never really left any of them, even four and a half years after the war. He never told Karin how Toushirou died—he simply told her that he was dead. Karin insisted, asserted, demanded, but he never answered. "Why do you bring him up?"

"I… look, you might not believe me on this, Ichi-nii…"

"With all that I've been through, Karin, I would never say something is impossible until I've seen the proof of it being so with my own eyes," Ichigo snorted. "So spill."

"…well, I was looking through the orphanage records earlier, and I found a child." Ichigo could hear her voice slightly trembling. "His name… Ichi-nii, his name's Toushirou, and he looked _exactly _like the Toushirou we knew."

Silence.

"Karin, maybe you just mistook the kid for Toushirou."

"I'm not blind, you know! You have worse eyesight than I do! And besides—white hair and green eyes, Ichi-nii? How common is that in Japan? And shall we count his name—_Toushirou­_—as coincidence while we're at it?" Karin scoffed on the other side. "No, I don't think so."

"…"

"Ichi-nii?"

"Where's this kid now?"

"He's dead, Ichi-nii."

"…_dead,_" Ichigo echoed. The word brought chills down to his spine. Memories of the war lingered in the far corners of his mind. Behind him, he felt Orihime standing by the door, listening in to the conversation.

"He apparently died two weeks ago at a blast in a nearby playground park." His mind flashed to a news report he'd seen—five children, he recalled. Five children had died, all from the orphanage nearby. "Ichi-nii, that blast—I don't think it's normal. Remember those explosions long ago? The ones they couldn't trace—the ones actually made by Hollows? What if Toushirou was being chased by Hollows? If that was the same Toushirou, that'd be no wonder—he'd be _strong_! I don't think his soul was eaten, Ichi-nii. I don't want to think that. Could we at least check this out?"

The disturbed frown still set on his face, he looked out his room's window. "The weather's horrible, Karin." _But that might be the reason for this snowstorm. If I'm not mistaken, Toushirou's shikai could control the weather…_

"Ichi-nii!"

Ichigo bit his lip. "I don't know much about reincarnation—Urahara-san might be a better person to ask about that, but… but alright, we'll check it out. I'll—" he paused, glancing behind him. Orihime was leaning against the door, Chad standing behind her. Ishida was listening from the living room. "…we'll try and be there as soon as we can. But let's wait until the weather slows a bit. We can't walk outside in this storm."

"Are you going to tell Soul Society?"

"No, not yet," Ichigo decided. "Not until we've verified. I don't want to give a false alarm."

"I see. Okay. I'll try to see what I can find, Ichi-nii. Hurry. I don't know what I'd do if there's a Hollow out there…"

"Make sure you're wearing the necklace dad and I gave you, Karin," Ichigo warned. "Yuzu too."

With words of goodbye and a promise that they would hurry as soon as the weather let up a little, Ichigo hung up. He sat on the edge of his bed, arms braced on his thighs.

"Karin-chan?" Orihime verified.

"Yeah."

"What was it about?" Ishida asked.

Ichigo rubbed the side of his head. If this child was really Toushirou… he sighed, turning toward his friends to tell the story.

"Ishida, do you know anything about reincarnation?"

-

* * *

-

Warily, Karin approached Yuzu and reminded her never to take off the necklace. Now that the possibility of a Hollow nearby had increased, they needed to be careful. Both of them were always prime targets because of the reiryoku they'd inherited from their father. Yuzu was slightly put out by the warning, but Karin immediately lightened her up by reminding her that their Ichi-nii was nearby, and that they were well-protected so long as they had the necklaces that suppressed their reiatsu to normal levels.

She picked up another mug of hot chocolate and headed back towards the information desk, avoiding the throng of shrieking happy little children. She felt uneasy whenever the thought of little defenseless Toushirou being chased by Hollows out in the middle of the snowstorm crossed her mind. Before she knew it, she had already developed an attachment to the late captain—she really did not know why.

As she settled back into her seat, Megumi nudged her. "What's wrong? You look pale. Something happen?"

"Hmm? Oh, no, nothing. I'm fine, just the cold," Karin shrugged her concern off, faking a smile. Megumi was easily fooled. Karin turned to the lady. "Could you tell me more about Toushirou?"

"Ara," the lady smiled. "You really are interested, aren't you?"

"Yes, well… you seem to know a lot about him."

"Hmm," the lady leaned back in her chair. "I'm not really the front desk person, you see. I'm in charge of the library; the front desk job is only for today since you young people came for the outreach, and I was assigned to help around here. If you haven't noticed, the left wing serves as an orphanage, but the right wing of the cathedral connects to a seminary. We have quite a big library, and I'm the serving librarian." She paused for a while, sipping her coffee. "Everyday Toushirou-kun would stop by and read some children's books. He was only about four, but he was leaps and bounds ahead of the other children. Everyone kept saying he had to be older than he looked, but the hospital records clearly showed he was born December of 2006, four years ago."

"But because he was so much ahead of the other children, he was isolated," the lady continued. "I never once saw him play with anybody else. No one approached him much, since he turned down everybody anyway, preferring to read. He loved picture magazines the most. National Geographic and that sort—he was already starting to learn English too. And maybe no one wanted to get closer to him because… well, strange things happened around him."

Karin's attention was piqued. "Strange things?"

The lady shifted in her seat. "He… _saw_ things."

_Strike_, Karin muttered in her head.

"You young people might not believe this kind of stuff, but this is a church, and churches believe in the supernatural. Forces beyond reasoning, that sort of talk. God. And evil spirits, of course."

"And Toushirou-kun saw them?" exclaimed Megumi.

The lady nodded. "The resident priest and the nuns acknowledged Toushirou-kun's… _ability_, if you may, and told him that those things he saw were real, but also warned that he should never, ever yield to them—whoever and whatever _they_ were." The lady heaved a sigh. "All I know is that the child was quite afraid of what he saw—very much so at the beginning. But I guess after a while the child felt that the other children were uncomfortable with whatever he said he saw, so he kept things to himself. From time to time, you'd just see him look up in the distance, and then pack up his books and rush back into the cathedral—as if he's running away from something."

_Double strike_, Karin muttered. She resisted the urge to ring her brother again.

"There were even instances when he'd wake up, slip out of the room without waking his roommates, and huddle by the altar, or knock at the priests' door. The priest grew quite fond of him—anybody would after about a dozen nights spent calming the boy! He said he heard screams. Loud screams."

_Triple strike_. _Oh, Ichi-nii, hurry, hurr—_

A scream in the distance.

Karin froze. _Hollow._

She bit her lip, wringing her wrist. _Shit, shit, shit, Ichi-nii, where are you?!_

-

* * *

-

There was still a small shrine dedicated to the children inside the smaller prayer chapel, and a picture of Toushirou was up on display. Karin lit a candle and uttered a small prayer—even though she was not one of the Christian faith, she could still offer her prayers for these young souls. She fervently hoped that none of them were preyed on by the Hollows, and that they were now safely delivered to Soul Society.

Anxiously, she waited for Ichigo, but the weather would not let up. She had received mail from his brother saying that if the weather did not relent by evening, Ichigo would go out in his soul form alone and search for the boy in the playground park. After all, even though he would feel the cold, his soul would not get frostbite or fold over in severe hypothermia. Best of all, there would be no risk of getting buried in the already thigh-deep snow.

She had contemplated going out on her own, but she had no idea where Toushirou was, and it would count as suicide to go out in a snowstorm without knowing for certain where she was going. Thus, she was stuck waiting, praying, hoping fervently against hope that Toushirou was not out there, that Toushirou was fine.

_But I have a feeling that's not the case_, she grimly thought, gazing out the chapel's window.

"Karin-chan?" a gentle voice came from the chapel's doorway.

Karin turned to find her twin. "Yuzu. What's up?"

"I could ask you the same question," Yuzu frowned, walking towards her. "Is something wrong? You've been acting strange since we got here." The younger girl hesitated for a moment, before adding, "Are there Hollows around?"

"No, that's… not it," Karin shifting in her seat. "Well, actually—yes, that _is _it."

Yuzu sighed. "Knew it. Did you call Ichi-nii?"

"He said he would come as soon as the weather let up, or come evening."

"I see," Yuzu said. "Don't worry, Karin-chan. It'll be fine. Ichi-nii will take care of it."

Karin smiled up at her sister. "Yeah." Her eyes flickered back towards the window, as if attracted by some sort of power. She forced herself to look back up at Yuzu. "Say, could you get me another mug of hot chocolate?"

"Sure!" Yuzu grinned. "Wait here."

As soon as Yuzu was out of sight, Karin shot up from her seat and pressed her face to the glass window, squinting through the white haze. In the short distance she could see a section of the playground park, and beyond the trees a hulking ominous figure—

_Shit!_

She felt the Hollow's scream reverberate through her mind, and a familiar reiryoku tugged at hers. Perhaps being around his father and brother had honed her senses—she did not know. But she felt the reiryoku clearly, a large spike triggered by alarm and fear. She scrambled to the nearest exit door, wrapping her coat around her and snagging Yuzu's extra scarf.

_Toushirou, hold on!_

-

* * *

**Tsuzuku**_  
(__Revised__ Version)_

* * *

**Kiasidira Ixari & Aventria**_  
First Draft: 2008.05.18__  
Uploaded: 2008.09.18  
Last Revised: 2008.08.07  
_


	3. II: White Out

**Child of the White Winter**  
_Kiasidira Ixari & Aventria_

Some Byakuya/Rukia, people. At Tria's insistence. (And both Byakuya and Rukia might be a bit OOC. Oh well.)

-

* * *

**II**  
White Out

* * *

-

**(1) Gochisousama.** – Indirectly: "Thank you for the food. / It was delicious." Post-meal, counterpart of "Itadakimasu (pre-meal)".

**(2) Byakuya-bou** – The '-bou' attached at the end of his name is a somewhat affectionate term that can be translated as "boy"—not the ordinary boy type, but the rich boy type. Technically, it means "little (prince) Byakuya".

**(3) Byakuya-nii-sama** – Onii-sama is a respectful term that means "elder brother". In this case, it is attached to Byakuya's name as a sign of respect from Rukia with regards to their relationship as brother and sister.

**(4) Hisana**-**nee-sama** – Onee-sama is a respectful term that means "elder sister". In this case, it is attached to Hisana's name as a sign of respect from Rukia with regards to their relationship as sisters.

**(5) shoji **– Sliding doors made of Japanese rice paper. The type you see in traditional Japanese houses.

-

* * *

-

"I'm going out."

Using his badge, Ichigo left his living body and headed for the window with every intention of setting out despite the weather. Outside, the raging snowstorm continued to lay a blanket of pure white over the entire city—there should be no less than a foot-deep carpet of snow out, he silently observed. His human body would no doubt freeze over if he dared step out in it, and thus he was left with no other choice but to set out in his shinigami form.

"We'll follow as soon as the weather lets up," Chad said in his usual deep voice.

"I'll tell Karin-chan you're out looking when she calls," Orihime quipped. "Be careful, Ichigo-kun."

With a nod, he leapt into the blizzard, his shinigami form easily passing through the wall. He felt the stinging cold, but his overall movement and breathing were both unaffected. He gazed up at the whitewashed sky, frowning. Perhaps the reason for this volatile weather was Toushirou. He could recall hearing about the late captain's _shikai_ being able to manipulate the weather, and wondered faintly if it was possible even without a_ zanpakutou_.

His feet effortlessly fell into_ shunpo_, heading for the orphanage. Hopefully, Karin did wait as she was told—the girl could be quite a reckless troublemaker when she wanted to be. The two of them were much too alike, which only made Ichigo far more worried than he already was—the fact simply meant that Karin would attract more trouble than she could handle. (At the very least, he told himself, she had sharper wits than he did. Maybe those wits would finally be useful in a situation that did not include outwitting their fool of a father.)

_Don't you be like your brother and do something incredibly stupid, Karin. At least wait for me before you get yourself killed…_

-

* * *

-

_What in the seven hells am I doing?!_

Her feet were numb, her fingers stiff. Her nose and ears both burned with the stinging cold. She was wearing her extra-thick coat, Yuzu's extra scarf, thick mittens, mufflers, and a thermal cap, but the cold still managed to creep through the layers and lick against her skin. With every step, her feet sank into the white snow. The wind buffeted her, pushing against her from all sides, making her stumble and fall.

The screams, however, got louder and louder with each step she took, giving her incentive to stand up and continue forward. The thought of Toushirou, alone under the blizzard and chased by starving Hollows, chilled her far more than this onslaught of snow could.

A few more steps and she could see the hazy silhouettes of the children's playground. Trusting her senses, she turned and headed for the thick swath of trees beside the playground, noting the slightly charred appearance of the first few snow-covered trees.

_The explosion must have been around this area_, she thought to herself. Picking up her pace despite the thick snow hindering her feet, she looked left and right, squinting under the monochrome haze. Another scream ripped through the air, sending a violent shiver down her spine. This time, it sounded as if the Hollow was standing right behind her.

She felt the first vestiges of panic tugging at her nerves. Fervently hoping that Ichigo would be able to feel her reiatsu, she blocked her ears against the violent scream of another Hollow. There was more than one, she knew. It made sense—Toushirou was inherently strong, and would attract not one, but an entire battalion of Hollows.

She gritted her teeth. "TOUSHIROU!"

Left and right, she looked, weaving into the trees. The playground led into a park, which would mean she would be in danger of getting lost within the foliage, but she had no choice. She asked herself over and over—where would a child hide? She could not feel Toushirou's reiatsu clearly, but from time to time, here and there she felt traces of them left on an odd tree. Faint, but it was there.

Another scream echoed through the woods, making her start in surprise and catch her foot on a large tree's protruding root. She stumbled and fell face first into the snow, her leg scraping painfully against the cold tree bark. She cursed under her breath, lifting herself on all fours. As she turned to check her injured leg, her eyes widened.

"T-Toushirou?!"

The child, curled up, was snuggled into a small hole underneath a big tree's roots. The snow came up halfway and covered the hole sufficiently enough to hide the boy's form.

"Who… who are you?" the boy asked, voice faint and uncertain. Karin found herself staring back at wide emerald eyes brimming with confusion.

"I-I'm Karin," she stuttered momentarily. _Of course,_ she inwardly frowned. _He doesn't have his memories._ "Don't be scared—I'm a friend. I'm not going to hurt you."

Little Toushirou opened his mouth and was about to reply when his head whipped towards the sky, eyes widening. "Watch out—"

A scream, louder and clearer than ever, ripped through the air.

Karin yelped as a branch from a tree to her left snapped and fell with a muffled thud to the ground. The Hollow, eerie red eyes and white masked face, peered at them through the foliage overhead.

"_Found you."_

Tugging the child out of the hole, she scrambled to her feet and started to run the opposite way. Both of them had high levels of _reiryoku_—all the Hollows were bound to be at their heels. She stumbled, the thick snow and her layers of clothing hampering her movement, but she pushed herself forward. Beside her, the boy appeared to have no problems running through the snow.

She clutched the boy's hand tightly as they broke the cover of the trees and found themselves in the middle of a neighborhood street bordering the park. Not recognizing the place, she abandoned directions and chose to simply run away from the overwhelming presence of the Hollows chasing after the two of them. They turned a corner and ran down another street. The physical exertion kept her body warm, stalling the onslaught of frostbite. If only the blasted blizzard would stop—

"KARIN!"

Sagging with relief, she found herself face to face with her brother in his shinigami form. "Ichi-nii!"

"You idiot! Why didn't you wait in the orphanage?! You'll freeze to death out here!" Ichigo lashed out.

Karin found herself at the receiving end of a reproachful glare. Scowling, she submitted. She knew she should have simply waited, but she couldn't stand the thought of leaving the little child on his own out in the snowstorm.

Ichigo's eyes wandered to the tiny form still clutching his sister's hand. The little boy was panting slightly, white tousled hair blurring against the white snow. The wide green eyes, however, stood out brilliantly. There was no mistaking it.

A nearby scream disrupted his train of thought.

_Always a bother, these Hollows._ Sighing, he gripped Zangetsu's hilt. "Wait here."

-

* * *

-

"Here." Ichigo handed the shivering Karin a mug of hot chocolate. Seated beside her was little Toushirou, quiet as a mouse, observing with calm emerald eyes. The severed chain protruding from his chest was solid proof that he was no longer among the living—which would consequently make things easier for them. This way it would be easier to take the boy to Soul Society, where he would be better taken care of.

The snowstorm outside subsided upon successful removal of the Hollows, further support to Ichigo's theory that it was Toushirou who brought about the horrible weather. Or more precisely, it was Toushirou who _unconsciously_ brought about the horrible weather due to his agitation and fear.

While a still shivering Karin was talking with a very worried and very angry Yuzu on the phone, Orihime decided to engage the little wide-eyed boy in a conversation.

"Toushirou-kun, could you tell us your whole name?"

There was a pause of silence as the boy seemed to gauge Orihime's approach, before silent words, very polite and proper, were brought forth. "Takeshima Toushirou."

"It's his mother's family name," Karin promptly supplied, quelling the questioning stares. "It said on the files at the orphanage."

There was once more silence upon the child. Orihime, Karin, and Chad were seated around the living room, while Ishida and Ichigo were debating options in the background. Ichigo wanted to contact Soul Society immediately and have the captains, at the very least, informed of the development; Ishida wished to confirm the child's authenticity first. The face could look the same, but it was not certain to them if it _was_ the very same soul of their late Hitsugaya-taichou—not until they ran several tests. Ichigo thought Ishida overly paranoid; Ishida thought Ichigo excessively irresponsible.

"Think of the _consequences_, moron!" the Quincy hissed. "You do not want to risk giving them false hopes! You know as well as I do how much they celebrate Hitsugaya-taichou, and in the event of his 'return', there's bound to be tumult! They love him too much! And with all that hero worship after the War, the new generation of shinigami are bound to recognize him as well!"

"Which is exactly why we need to bring him up there as soon as possible," Ichigo pressed on. The usual stubbornness was evident in his eyes. Ishida gave a sigh. "He's still a soul, Ishida. He can't stay here for too long. We can't protect him at every turn—we have our own responsibilities—and he will be better cared for in Soul Society! They can provide for the kid the way we won't be able to."

Ishida was about to lash Ichigo with an acid retort, when Toushirou spoke out of the blue.

"Onee-san," he called to Orihime. Wide green eyes, calm and bright, looked up at them with a serious air no four year old should possess. "Am I dead?"

The question, posed so simply and yet so discursively, caught Orihime off-guard. The girl stumbled momentarily, glancing up at Ichigo, who gave a nod. It was better to speak the truth. The last thing they wanted was for the child to learn how to lie. "…y-yes, you are, Toushirou-kun."

Toushirou silently gave Orihime a small smile, nodded once, and returned his attention to his hot chocolate, sipping serenely. He did not seem to be bothered by the fact that was now clear before his eyes—Orihime doubted it was because the child did not understand the concept of life and death, for this child was clearly exceptionally smart.

Taking a chance, Orihime continued on the same vein, "Ne, Toushirou-kun. Do you know where the souls of the dead people go?"

"Father and the people at the church say they go to heaven if they're good," Toushirou quipped. "And to hell if they're bad." He paused. "…can I go to heaven too? Hell sounds awful. Fire."

Chuckling, Chad remarked, "You don't like fire?"

"It's hot," the child flatly stated.

"You won't be going to hell, kid," Ichigo grinned, walking over and crouching down to the child's eye level. Ignoring Ishida's disapproval, the substitute shinigami began to explain to Toushirou. "You'll be going to Soul Society."

"What's that?"

"It's the place where souls go. You can't stay here for too long; more monsters will come after you. It's too dangerous for souls here. So you'll go to Soul Society instead." Ichigo paused. There was the matter of some awkward relationships—he believed most of the shinigami who lived through the War and fought with the late Hitsugaya-taichou would have conflicting feelings on how to treat the child. Carefully choosing his words, he continued, "There are some nice people there who will take care of you properly. I will tell them about you in a bit so they will know, and then they will come and pick you up later."

"Why can't we just use the normal Soul Burial?" Orihime quipped. "It's faster."

"But trickier." Ichigo shook his head. "No, we won't be using Soul Burial. We won't know where he'll end up if we use that. Soul Society's amiable for the most part, but we can't count on him landing in some safe place for sure. He might end up in the middle of a skirmish in the heart of the 80th District, for all we know."

"So we just get him through the _senkaimon_?" Chad asked. "Does that work? I thought the only way to send a soul over there was with the help of a shinigami's _zanpakutou_."

"We can ask them over there. I'm pretty sure they will have a way," Ichigo shrugged. He turned to Orihime. "Could you keep him company for a bit? I'll drop Urahara-san—I mean, Urahara-_taichou_—a call. If there's someone who will know what to do, it'll be him."

-

* * *

-

Urahara sneezed, and then sniffled, rubbing his red nose. "Ugh. Winter."

"You sound positively _awful_, Kisuke," Yoruichi stated in a half-purr half-drawl, perfectly at home as she lounged in what was supposed to be Urahara's living room. She was cocooned within a warm fortress of blankets and pillows, and Urahara's special self-made _kotatsu_ served its purpose by warming her legs and feet against the frosty bite of winter as she ate. "You should get that cold looked at. You'll have to schedule ahead of time, though; Unohana-taichou's quarter is quite inundated right now. The cold seems to be running rampant around the squads…"

"I wouldn't have this cold at all if you weren't monopolizing all my blankets," grumbled the scientist and returned captain. He tugged his painfully thin and ragged blanket around his shoulders, gazing longingly upon Yoruichi's pile upon pile of rich warm cloths.

Yoruichi finished her thirteenth bowl of rice and made a satisfied sound, patting her still impossibly flat and un-bloated stomach. "Gochisousama. (1)" She turned yellow cat eyes upon her childhood friend. "It's called hospitality, Kisuke, in case you aren't familiar with it. Guests ought to be given the best treatment a household can give!"

"Apparently, our definition of 'guest' differs quite drastically." Urahara mumbled a silent thanks to Ururu as she served him a steaming bowl of miso. "I suppose you are quite finished imposing yourself on poor Byakuya, seeing you are currently disturbing the relative peace of my household?"

"Yes, yes." With complete disregard for modesty, Yoruichi leaned back, the blankets sliding down and revealing smooth expanses of skin. "I was thinking of staying a bit longer—the manor has its perks—but Byakuya-bou (2) looked like he was at the very end of his wits keeping up with my brilliantness… and so I took pity on him and left."

_Yes, and you've decided to barge into my playground next._ Urahara gave a desolate sigh. It was hopeless trying to persuade a decided Yoruichi—the woman would never budge unless she wanted to. He understood that she did not want to return to the empty cold of the Shihouin clan manor, and he was perfectly fine with her staying in the house, but what he failed to understand was why she insisted on barging in and stealing all of his blankets when there was plenty enough to _share_.

"You do realize that Soi Fong is more than eager to have you over," Urahara mentioned.

"She needs to have some time alone with herself," Yoruichi waved off. "She has been dogging me around since we came back, Kisuke. Not that I have anything to hide from her, but the snapping and the flashes are starting to get on my nerves."

Urahara snickered. "She's still following you around that much."

"Well, not as much since this horrible weather came in." The dark-skinned woman turned a knowing glance through the window across the room, yellow eyes watching as the snow-heavy blizzard barreled through the entire Court. "We haven't had a peaceful winter since four years ago, have we, Kisuke." Rather than as a question, it was posed as a statement.

"No," Urahara agreed. "No, we haven't."

A silence settled between them, interrupted only by the rumble of the clouds and the whipping of the icy snow-laden winter wind.

"How many years do you think Rangiku will have to wait?" The question was so sudden Urahara had to blink.

"You mean for her to meet Hitsugaya-taichou again in his next life?" Urahara gave a vague shrug. "Who knows. The cycle of reincarnation is not a precise science. As far as any research has ventured, the entire scheme is completely random. Some are reborn immediately after leaving Soul Society, yet some wait for a few hundred years before reemerging. So far there are no cases of reincarnation where they are reborn with memories of life in Soul Society intact, but there are cases with memories from their previous Earth lives intact. It seems there's a gap in their memory, as if everything they know about Soul Society is erased."

"We have yet to see shinigami reborn who have kept their developed powers with them—the process of rebirth seems to strip everything away except for the basic soul and the raw, untrained _reiryoku_." Pausing, Urahara picked a steamed pork bun from the table and bit into it. "I should really start trying to persuade Ichigo to let me do a little…_ experimentation_. He _is_ quite a rare case—his sisters, the twins, too."

Yoruichi gave a snort. "Isshin will murder you if you so much as move a single hair on those girls' heads."

"Then perhaps he will be more willing to part with Ichigo?" The mad twinkle shone within Urahara's eyes.

"Taichou," Ururu's timid voice came from the other side of the rice paper doors. "You have an urgent call from Kurosaki Ichigo-kun."

"Araa." Delighted, Urahara rose, tugging a blanket from a yowling Yoruichi. He wrapped it around his shoulders and moved through the hallways of the by now familiar captain's residence, heading for his communication labs. Yoruichi was hot on his heels, eager to see what the commotion was about. "Speak of the devil, and he will come waltzing right into your midst."

The very moment he stepped into the communication lab, he was greeted with Ichigo's projected and enlarged face.

"Kurosaki-kun—ah, _fukutaichou_, good evening" Urahara almost sang. If the number one trouble magnet was dropping by for a little chat, it surely meant something interesting was coming around. And of course, to a scientist's eyes, '_dangerous'_ could may well have been '_interesting_' misspelled. "What can I do for you today?"

"Yo, Urahara-san—I mean, Urahara­-_taichou_. And Yoruichi-san too," Ichigo bid.

Annoyed, Yoruichi raised an eyebrow and drawled, "Now, is that how you greet your wondrously lovely master, apprentice? Have you _forgotten_ all the things I taught you long ago?"

But Ichigo ignored her.

"Urahara-san—_taichou_, I need a bit of help. We have a… situation here right now," Ichigo began.

"Yes, as usual, of course," Urahara chuckled.

"Yeah, I don't really know how to explain, but—" he paused, and from the background, Urahara could hear Ishida's voice. "—yeah, that's a good idea. Ishida says I should just show you."

Urahara raised an eyebrow and waited patiently as Ichigo walked away from the projector that was attached to the_ senkaimon _in the apartment's tiny extra bedroom (which was more of a closet than anything else). There was a moment's silence as the screen displayed an empty whitewashed room, until Orihime's faint voice carried through the line.

"…just going to introduce you to the people who are going to pick you up," Orihime was saying gently, even gentler than her usual gentle tone. It was as if she was hesitant, picking her words—as if she was talking to a child.

"When will they be picking me up?" asked a smaller voice, masculine, but young.

Urahara shot a glance towards Yoruichi, who was just as bewildered as he was. There were wild guesses flitting through his head, courtesy of his imagination, but none of them were plausible enough for him to even consider for longer than a split-second. _And where have I heard that voice before…?_

"It depends," Orihime said. Just as she spoke, Ichigo stepped back into view and ushered her into the room. She was holding a child's hand, and the child was looking up at her, and then at the screen—

Silence.

"Urahara-taichou, Yoruichi-san, this is Toushirou-kun," Orihime introduced, the smile on her face still clearly disbelieving, as if she herself could not believe the reality despite the fact that she was holding the child's hand.

The blanket Urahara had around his shoulders pooled on the floor.

-

* * *

-

Bowing into the room, Rukia fought to keep herself still under the steady gaze of her elder brother-in-law. Byakuya, she found, was always unpredictable. Often she wondered how her elder sister had managed to snare the man's ever-elusive affection; true, Hisana was pretty in her own way, but she was by no means any more beautiful than the women inhabiting the higher circles of nobility. Rukia's usually overactive imagination slid into a pitiful slump—how her sister managed to overweigh the absolutely breathtaking ladies of the court completely escaped all reason.

"Good evening, Byakuya-nii-sama." She sat herself, keeping her eyes low, careful not to make unnecessary contact and accidentally cast disrespect. The last thing she would want was to fall into disfavor—their relationship as brother and sister certainly was progressing better than she had hoped—definitely far better than before the war—but she would not let that fool her into a false sense of security. Byakuya was unpredictable, she told herself. And therefore, she had to be extra careful.

Rukia waited patiently as her brother returned the papers he had been examining into a Sixth Division file folder. Her sharp eyes caught a flash of orange on the side of the folder facing Byakuya—a priority two matter? As soon the table was clear, Byakuya faced her properly and bid her a good evening.

"Today, I have received notification that you have applied to take the vice-captain screening examination." Straightforward and frank as always, Rukia noted. "Might I ask why I came to know about this from the Soutaichou and not from you, Rukia?"

Rukia bit the inside of her cheek. She had expected this conversation—prepared for it, even. But those intense eyes that bore into her, they were fiery. And the fire immobilized her. Inside, she trembled with fear, and it was all she could do to prevent the outside from trembling as well.

She did not notify her brother of her application and instead went ahead and took the exam. By now it was common knowledge that the Sixth Division Captain was fiercely overprotective of his little sister and would do anything to prevent any undue danger. Even she was not blind to that. Thus she purposefully failed to notify her brother, for Byakuya would only surely deny her permission.

She gathered her courage and spoke gently, "…I knew Byakuya-nii-sama (3) would simply refuse should I request permission to take the exam."

Byakuya remained silent, almost contemplative. The silence was oppressive for Rukia; she did not like it much when her brother was this tense. Byakuya was one of those people who commanded the atmosphere around them—whenever Byakuya was tense, the entire room became tense.

"This folder," Byakuya very silently said, "was delivered to my office late this afternoon." Rukia watched as Byakuya opened the folder and lifted a sheet of paper—Rukia recognized it as the results of her examination. "You have cleared the examination for vice-captaincy, Rukia. These are exemplary scores."

A silent 'eep' erupted from Rukia, the remnants of a suppressed yelp of surprise escaping her lips. Eyes wide and bright, she fidgeted in her seat. She struggled to control her instincts—she wanted nothing more than to prance in victory, but Byakuya's probing eyes kept her firmly seated and unmoving.

"You did not expect easy clearance, I take," Byakuya continued as she stilled herself.

Rukia nodded meekly. "Renji told me that it would take several tries. Matsumoto-taichou told me to take it the first time for experience."

"While it is true that most struggle to pass this test, it is not true for you. Do you know why that is?" Byakuya's voice was low and silent, warm. The air was tense, but Rukia sensed no hostility—it confused her.

"No I don't, 'nii-sama."

"It is because you have taken this test with abilities already well within the vice-captain range. You will find that most overestimate themselves when they take this test, thinking they have the abilities needed, when in truth it is the opposite." Byakuya closed the folder and handed it to her over the table.

"You, however, were delayed. Ideally, you would have taken the test the moment you reached fourth or fifth seat, which is what Abarai-fukutaichou did. But circumstances have prevented you from taking the test immediately. You have grown much throughout the years, Rukia. Even if I do not necessarily like it, I do acknowledge that. You have trained hard and have surpassed any and all expectations I may have had on you; and before you were aware of it, your abilities have already stepped past the line of vice-captaincy."

Rukia kept her head down, a flush climbing to her face. The heat under her skin tingled; butterflies in her stomach flipped over and fluttered. Such a rare experience it was to be complimented directly by her brother! To hear the words from his mouth, with his voice—it made Rukia happy beyond explanation, made her happier than any test result could.

The atmosphere was even warmer now, but the underlying tension was still present. Rukia understood; her brother was leading up to something. There was something he needed to say—but there was no hurry on either part. She could wait; he would wait.

There was silence for a while, as if Byakuya was gathering his words. Normally, Rukia was content with silence, but in her eagerness to please her brother, silence with him made her self-conscious.

"Do you understand why I would have refused you permission should you have asked, Rukia?" She failed to read her brother's expression, but it was not a new thing.

Rukia's brows furrowed, and she pursed her lips. Silence was her answer.

Byakuya uttered a silent sigh, relaxing his shoulder muscles. The tension dropped. "I try my best, Rukia, to provide for you, to protect you. To keep you from harm's way. This is what I have promised Hisana—what I have promised myself."

The way her brother spoke, it was slow. Deliberate, as if he was choosing his words carefully, turning them over, making sure there were no misunderstandings. Rukia recognized how difficult it must be for Byakuya to be saying such things—he was a private person, and things like these were kept within tightly sealed boxes kept in the dark, opened only when there was dire necessity.

"Ironically enough, you seem to waltz right into danger despite my efforts." Rukia ducked her head in shame and made to apologize, but Byakuya raised a hand to silence her. "Being a vice-captain is not an easy job, Rukia. It is strenuous and dangerous. Granted, there are no current vacated positions, but I am quite sure that as soon as there is one, you will be promoted. There will be lesser field missions, true, but if there ever is, the circumstances will not be what you are used to. There will be increased danger—exactly what I have been trying to take you away from."

"However, I do realize that preventing you from growing will neither be of help to you nor honor the memory of your sister. She surely would have wanted to see you grow, as do I." He paused, taking a sip of his tea. Rukia was frozen stiff in her seat, half-waiting for the next words and half-dreading them. Each word tugged at her heart—she hoped her appearance still was seemly, for her face was burning. The only time she could ever remember having such an… intimate conversation with her brother was after Ichigo rescued her from the Soukyoku four years ago.

"You are an excellent shinigami, Rukia." Byakuya's eyes were dark, but warm. "You are good at what you do. You are responsible and honest, well-disciplined. You are a fine example of what Seireitei needs." A small smile tugged at the corners of the man's lips, and they were not hidden from Rukia's attentive eyes. "I am hesitant to allow you to step forward, Rukia, for fear of you putting yourself in danger. But for you to grow, there is no other way—a heart does not grow sheltered."

Looking up at her brother, Rukia could say not a single word.

"I give you my blessing, Rukia. You will make a fine vice-captain."

It took a while before Rukia could find her voice, but when she did, she bowed and shakily uttered a heartfelt 'thank you'. It was all she could do not to cry in joy. No matter how she denied it to herself, a huge part of her sought approval and recognition, and she wanted it from Byakuya. From her last remaining family. And tonight she received it in full.

"It will be a while before you are called to actual duty, but should the opportunity present itself, I am certain you will be promoted. Ukitake-taichou has vouched for you more than once, along with Kyouraku-taichou and Matsumoto-taichou." The candlelight flickered in Byakuya's dark eyes, illuminating a spark of life within them. All of a sudden, Rukia wished to see those eyes full of that spark. "The only thing that has kept them from promoting you was me."

Rukia pulled on her courage once more. "I—I appreciate everything you have done for me, Byakuya-nii-sama. I understand you were merely trying to keep your promise to Hisana-nee-sama (4). I will be careful and try my best to stay away from any unnecessary danger."

Byakuya nodded his approval. There was a pause of silence, and then a sigh. "It is late, Rukia. You should retire for the evening. Tomorrow, you are required to be present early at the Soutaichou's office to receive your certificate."

"Onii-sama, you should rest as well. You must be tired," Rukia insisted, partly rising from her seat.

"I will." Placing his cup of tea down, Byakuya paused momentarily before reaching into the folds of his yukata. He procured a small box, which he opened to reveal a necklace of white gold, with a teardrop of amber as the pendant. "When Hisana was still alive, she oft complained I pampered her with far too many gifts. I realize I have never given you one."

"I—"

Silence.

"Onii-sama, I can't possibly accept that, I—"

"If you do not accept it, I will be offended." Byakuya raised a delicate eyebrow at her, expression schooled into one of seriousness, but eyes flickering with sparks of life. "Take it, Rukia. It is a gift, and it is long due."

Speechless, Rukia sank back into her seat and took the box. With trembling fingers, she lifted the necklace and held it up, fascinated with how the amber's facets threw light. She gently replaced the box on the table and tried to fasten the necklace around her neck with great difficulty. It was all she could do not to burn up when Byakuya rose from his seat and went behind her. There were suddenly gentle fingers taking the chain and fastening it together as she held up her hair.

"T-Thank you," she stuttered. As soon as Byakuya rose to return to his seat, she hastily stood and bowed, unable to keep herself composed any longer. "I appreciate the gift, onii-sama. T-Thank you, a-and good night."

"Good night," Byakuya bid.

Rukia almost tripped at the hem of her yukata as she shuffled out of the room hurriedly, her face flushed and burning. Before she could close the shoji (4), however, Byakuya spoke, "Know that I am proud of you, Rukia."

Rukia bit her lip and nodded, though she was not sure her brother could see it, for she had her head bowed.

"T-Thank you, onii-sama."

Had she looked up before closing the door, she would have seen a small, amused smile on Byakuya's face.

-

* * *

-

The grey and silent winter night was unrelenting, Matsumoto thought. The cold never did reveal its secrets to her. Winter was pure and blinding, the epitome of truth. And yet it was silent, tight-lipped. Time and time again, it would give her things to think about, things that would boggle her to the end of her wits—and sometimes, she was tempted to think it intentionally toyed with her. Or perhaps not. She never really knew.

Tonight, the mystery was of the sudden silence and calm. For four years in a row, not a single winter day was ever silent and calm. Violent hailstorms were the worst—they were in luck if the weather stopped at turbulent snowfall or lashing winter winds.

But tonight, it was dead silent.

In the distance, Matsumoto could see the Shrine of Penitence silhouetted against the moon, and beside it was the eternal pillar of ice commemorating her late captain and his legacy. Bathed in blue moonlight, the snow was ethereal under the clear star-spangled sky.

To say it was beautiful would be severe disrespect.

She sighed, gazing down at the paperwork she was working with. A wry smile came to her lips—her captain would be so proud to see her seriously handling the work.

_But I should sleep_, she told herself. A yawn fought its way through her, and soon, she was stretching and bleary-eyed. She ran her hand through her short cropped hair and rose from her seat, rearranging the files for easier access the next morning. She found work was easier when things were organized.

Just as she was about to leave the office, however, a shadow—one of the messengers from the Soutaichou, she recognized—came to a bow in front of her.

"What is it? It's the middle of the night."

"An emergency meeting, priority one. Your presence is requested at the Third Division's laboratories immediately, Matsumoto-taichou."

"The Third Division?" Matsumoto voiced in wonder. She was about to ask what the entire scuffle was all about when she caught and held her tongue. There was no point in asking the messenger; if it was a priority one issue, then she would simply have to go there herself. "I understand… I will be over in ten minutes."

The messenger bowed once and simply flashed out, as if he was never there in the first place. Matsumoto was tempted to stay rooted and think the situation over, but there was sadly no time for that. Retrieving her extra-thick winter cloak and scarf, she made for the door.

-

It did not take long until she was standing in front of the Third Division's laboratory facilities. She made her way in, a low-rank shinigami welcoming her as she stepped into the threshold. She hung her cloak on one of the pegs on the wall, noting that there were already three other people present, most probably the Second, Sixth, and Twelfth Division captains.

After Urahara returned as a captain, there were several major conflicts between him and Kurotsuchi Mayuri. The spats were, of course, anticipated, and at times even encouraged. The healthy competition kept the research field lively, and in turn helped Seireitei recover faster than it would have without the aid of rapidly evolving technology, weaponry, and medical techniques.

The Third Division morphed very quickly into a quasi-Twelfth. Researchers who were previously under Urahara and favored his supervision immediately transferred, while a number of a Third's population relocated under other squads, unfamiliar and uncomfortable with the scientific approach of their new captain. Urahara was congenial and understanding about the entire matter, letting his shinigami come and go as they pleased for the first few weeks. Kurotsuchi, however, was a different matter—he took the decrease in his researchers quite seriously, and made it a top priority to step ahead of Urahara at every avenue in turn.

After several fiery encounters which incurred a loss of an entire laboratory and injured several men, however, the competition stepped over the line. In order to lessen the animosity and friction between the two captains, the Soutaichou deemed it necessary to divide research fields between the two research centers.

The vaguer and more volatile areas of science were given to Urahara, allegedly since he was less prone to using the technology against Soul Society (meaning he had the sound morals Kurotsuchi simply lacked)—Hollow research, dimensional research and analysis, soul energy and transformations, reincarnation and the soul rebirth process, spirit particle formation-combination, and such things. Kurotsuchi was to deal with weaponry, communications and technology, soul trafficking measurements and research, and medical advances—one of the most important and influential fields, one Kurotsuchi himself specialized in.

This, of course, did not mean that the animosity would disappear.

"…hope this is not another one of your harebrained schemes, Urahara-taichou," Kurotsuchi's droll voice came. Matsumoto sighed as she stepped into the wide conference room and bid her fellow captains a good evening.

"I would appreciate it if you would refrain calling my schemes 'harebrained', Kurotsuchi-taichou. I am most certainly not the one who experiments with hares. But mark my words—this will be worthy of your time." There was an unexplainable smile on Urahara's face, partly ecstatic and partly full of wonder.

Matsumoto faintly raised an eyebrow when Urahara shot her an unreadable look. She glanced at Byakuya, who simply remained as stone-faced as ever as he stood beside a frowning Soi Fong.

It was not long before the rest of the captains started filing in. Ukitake and Kyouraku came together, the former wrapped in clothing warmer than most of them had on to protect from the elements. Zaraki swaggered in after them, Yachiru waving happily from her perch on his shoulder. They had to persuade the young girl with candy before she would willingly part with her captain long enough for the meeting to commence. Unohana, Komamura, and Shuuhei walked in shortly afterwards, followed by the Soutaichou. They had to wait five more minutes before the Fifth's Hirako Shinji came through the door yawning wide and blinking blearily.

"Happy little gathering in the middle of the night," Hirako remarked dryly, taking his place with a slouch. "This had better be worth it, Kisuke—you disturbed my beauty sleep."

"Most certainly." Urahara stepped forward and was about to begin when Yoruichi waltzed into the room, settling herself in a corner.

She grinned. "Oh, I won't miss this for the world. Don't mind me. I'm just a fly on the wall."

Before anyone could protest, Urahara began, "At approximately 21:37 tonight, I received a video call from Kurosaki-fukutaichou, who is currently stationed in the living world."

Kyouraku gave a chuckle, Byakuya uttered a sigh, and Hirako gave a groan. Wry smiles were wrung from the captains inside the room with the exception of Zaraki, who wore a bloodthirsty grin.

"Should've known," Matsumoto shook her head in amusement.

Hirako threw his head back in exasperation. "Trust Ichigo to be a magnet for trouble. What did my brilliant vice-captain do this time?"

"I wouldn't go so far as using the word 'trouble' right now, Hirako-taichou. The situation is quite… unique."

"When is it not?" snorted Kurotsuchi.

"Ururu, bring them in," Urahara called out. Shuffling from outside the wide room was audible. "It's quite hard to explain, so I shall do as Ishida-kun suggests and just show you." He turned. "Matsumoto-taichou, Ukitake-taichou, I suggest you brace yourselves."

"…what do you mean?" Matsumoto asked, her brows furrowing.

Urahara simply gave her a smile as the door opened to reveal Chad and Ishida. Both bowed respectfully and entered the room, followed by Ichigo.

"Hey, sorry for the late call."

"If you're sorry then you shouldn't have made the call in the first place, idiot," Hirako sniped. "What is it you've done this time around?"

"Oh, no," Ichigo grinned. "Hard to believe as it is, this time it's not me." He turned to someone still hidden by the door. "Come on."

Out came Orihime with a smile on her face, and she was clutching the hand of a small child.

Silence.

A shaky breath.

"…H-Hit…Hitsugaya-taichou?"

-

* * *

**Tsuzuku**_  
(__R__evised Version)_

* * *

**Kiasidira Ixari / Aventria**_  
First Draft: 2008.07.06__  
Uploaded: 2008.10.03  
Last Revised: 2008.09.20  
_


	4. III: Guardian

**Child of the White Winter**  
Kia Ixari & Aventria

**Disclaimer(s):** Standard disclaimer applies.

**Warning(s):** For this chapter, none so far.

**2008.09.15: **Gaaaaaaaaaah! The Twinnesses just finished watching Gekijouban Bleach 2 together! Toushirou was looove. And did anyone else notice just how loaded with innuendoes that movie was? I mean, come on! That scene where Toushirou was in Ichigo's bed? And Dattebayo just chose to translate certain things a certain way. Tsk, fangirls. Everywhere, I tellz ye. (Oh, and oh, and oh, Byakuya! That scene where he went "Yudan suru na," that was soooo Kunimitsu-buchou! Ooooh, love~!)

**Notes on Revision:** This chapter is only partially revised due to the editor Tria's current inability to proofread properly _without_ practically stripping the story of essence and creativity. (Pardon her, she's taking an English class with a hellishly anal professor, from what I hear. She's hypersensitive to errors right now, and if I let her touch the story, she'd butcher it beyond recognition. I need a certain level of deviance from prim and proper writing to be able to give my own touches, no?)

-

* * *

**III**  
Guardian

* * *

-

**(1) mochi** – Japanese/Chinese rice cake made of glutinous rice pounded into paste and molded into shape, often eaten during the New Year festive season; _daifuku_ is the sweet variation that has red bean paste filling.  
**(2) Ohayou**. – Good morning. (Informal)  
**(3) Onee-chan** – Big sister (Variations: aneue, aneki, onee-sama)  
**(4) Mae, Sode no Shirayuki** – Lit: "Dance, Sleeve of the White Snow." Kuchiki Rukia's _shikai_ release command.  
**(5) Tsugi no Mai, Hakuren** – The second of Rukia's special attacks with Shirayuki, lit: "The Next Dance, White Ripple," sends a massive wave of ice towards the opponent.  
**(6) Chire, Senbonzakura** – Kuchiki Byakuya's _shikai _release.  
**(7) Shun Shun Rikka** – The little fairies Orihime command from the hairclip.  
**(8) Souten Kisshun** – Orihime's healing/event-rejection technique.

-

* * *

-

The child inched backwards, uncertain. He made a move to hide behind Orihime's legs. Persian green eyes showed mild confusion and a healthy dash of apprehension, as if a well-honed innate instinct was whispering silent warnings only his young ears would hear. The potent mixture of shock and disbelief was so palpable Urahara was quite certain one could take a knife and slice clean through the tension. None dared utter a word, each one waiting for someone else to break the trance.

"…H-Hit… Hitsugaya-taichou?"

Matsumoto's anguished voice effectively dissolved the tension, crumbling the fragile walls that kept the tumble of questions at bay. Hirako and Kyouraku both released simultaneous whistles of barely suppressed awe. Even the inscrutable Kuchiki Byakuya had a light dash of wonder, an eyebrow raised in curiosity.

Before Matsumoto could go further, Urahara intercepted, "I have conducted the standard test procedures prior to this meeting and confirmed that he possesses the same soul as the late Hitsugaya-taichou. However, as is with any other case of reincarnation, he appears to retain no memory of his past life here in Soul Society or his life in the living world prior to that. All he remembers is his current cycle."

He gave Matsumoto a meaningful glance, warning the woman to keep her emotions at bay. However, it did not look like Matsumoto was even registering what he was saying—he suspected it was quite a shock for her to see her beloved captain once more, but in a different form and with naught a single shred of memory of the time they had spent together. "It will do no good to talk to him about his past life, so please refrain from doing so. We do not want to confuse him."

"So you say, Kisuke, but I think the child can comprehend every single word." Yoruichi languidly stretched on her little nest of warm blankets, all fluid feline grace. "Careful what you say—that child is most certainly not an ordinary child."

"How interesting." The smile on Kurotsuchi's face perfectly conveyed his longing to pry apart the new object of his interest and satisfy his curiosity and thirst for more knowledge. "How utterly captivating, indeed…" He earned a couple of warning glares, the fiercest ones from Matsumoto, Ukitake, and Ichigo.

"But—is this even possible? I have never seen an actual reincarnated soul—and in such startling similarity!" exclaimed a momentarily dumbfounded Soi Fong.

"Well, you're seeing it for the first time now, that's for sure." Yoruichi gave her a catty grin. "The child's no illusion."

Kyouraku sighed, and then grinned. "The prodigy will never stop dishing out surprises, will he? And here we thought the legacy was lost. But here he is, right in front of us!"

"Until when are we going to be calling him 'the child'?" A smiling Ukitake stepped forward and from his voluminous pocket pulled out a small container with_ mochi_ (1) inside. He knelt in front of Toushirou—the child clutched at Orihime's hand—and offered the sweets. "Would you like some?"

Eyes flicking towards the food, Toushirou's face reflected conflict.

"It's alright, I promise it's good," Ukitake coaxed. "Here, you can take all of it. You must be hungry, right?" Glancing up at Ichigo, he received a nod. The child had yet to eat anything—he was surely famished, more so if he had to maintain such a high-density _reiatsu_ the entire time.

The boy gently took the small container, a small, uncertain smile on his face. He respectfully bowed and murmured a silent 'thank you'.

"Could you tell me your name?" Ukitake prodded, eager to hear more from the curious green-eyed child.

"Toushirou," he said, looking up at the rest of the room's occupants. Full comprehension was evident within his face—then and there Ukitake knew this was a very intelligent, very gifted child. Scarily so. "Takeshima Toushirou."

"Takeshima?" echoed Matsumoto.

Ichigo scratched the back of his head. "That's what it had on the orphanage's records when Karin found him. She says it's his biological mother's name."

When all he received were blank stares, Ichigo gave a sigh and began to relay the entire story to a rapt audience. All the while, little Toushirou savored his _mochi_, glancing round and about. His eyes were full of curiosity and now devoid of apprehension, having verified he was in no immediate danger.

Urahara attentively watched the child, having already heard the story an hour past. He was glad to find that Toushirou was slowly adjusting to the atmosphere—he was a tad apprehensive himself prior to the meeting. He'd already had several scenarios unfolding in his head, and none of them had been particularly attractive. He was relieved that the child remained relatively calm and composed. He gave a wry smile. Without a doubt, little Toushirou was far smarter than the average four-year-old—so smart, in fact, that Urahara doubted he would measure below the mentality of a seven- or eight-year-old.

The hum of voices was a monotone in the background as Urahara observed his object of study. Toushirou was replacing the lid on the half-empty _mochi_ box, all the while gazing out the window at the breathtaking blue-lit wonderland. The snow was pristine, the moon at its zenith, far and unreachable in its solitary beauty. Tonight was a starless night, but the stars were not needed, for the moon alone was enough to give the entire of Seireitei a beautiful nighttime glow.

"This is our first quiet winter night in four years, if you have yet to notice," Yoruichi pointed out from behind Urahara. She effectively silenced the rest of the captains, who were preoccupied throwing around theories, ideas, and suggestions regarding the issue at hand.

Toushirou, leaning over the low windowsill, turned to them. "Onee-chan (3), what is that?" he asked Orihime, finger pointing into the distance. If one would squint, the Shrine of Penitence was visible, a darker silhouette against a dark winter night sky.

"Oh, that's the Shrine of Penitence, Toushirou-kun," Orihime said with a smile. By now she was used to the child's endless curiosity. For the last hour, he had bombarded her with similar questions of 'what' and 'why' and 'who' and 'how'—the questions were so simply phrased and yet sometimes so deeply philosophical in nature, she was pushed her to her wit's end!

"Shrine?" Toushirou dubiously turned to her.

"Yes, the big white tower." Orihime turned to Ichigo. "Maybe we can bring you later so you can see it up close."

"Sure," Ichigo shrugged. "I don't mi—"

"No, no, not the big tower!" Toushirou said, all eagerness and animation. By now, the child had the entire room's attention. "The thing beside the big white tower. See? It's sparkling. Like ice!"

"I can't see a thing in this dark, Toushirou. There's nothing sparkling over there." Ichigo scratched his head again. "I don't even think there's anything beside the Shrine. Is there?"

"But it's right there!"

He earned blank stares.

"Perhaps, even from this distance, he can see the Pillar of Eternal Ice." Byakuya, having remained silent for the span of the entire conversation, commanded all attention the moment he spoke. The Kuchiki clan head was obviously very much taken with the young child that was currently on the verge of tottering off the windowsill and through the window. "Perhaps the Pillar calls out to him."

Despite not completely comprehending the meaning behind Byakuya's words, Toushirou turned towards them. "Will I be able to see the Pillar? I want to see it."

Speaking directly to the child for the first time that night, Matsumoto padded over and placed a gentle hand upon Toushirou's head, ruffling the snow white hair. "Would you like to go tomorrow? It will be cold."

Toushirou nodded. "I like cold. Snow is pretty." Green eyes turned back towards the landscape, straining to see into the deep, far darkness, to catch a glimpse of the Pillar's light. It was as if the child was actually physically straining towards the Pillar's general direction, as if some force akin to gravity was pulling him forward.

Gently tangling her fingers into the child's downy hair, a smile gently tugged at the edges of her lips. She did not even notice her own tears until they trickled past her cheek and fell upon her hand. Faintly alarmed, Toushirou turned to her and reached up, placing cold hands upon her tearstained cheeks. However, he uttered not a single word, simply looking up at Matsumoto as the woman let the tears flow. It was as if he felt that there were no words that could possibly describe the happiness that was overflowing from within Matsumoto at that very moment.

Silently laughing despite herself, Matsumoto gathered Toushirou into a gentle embrace, burying her face into the child's hair. Tiny arms reached up wordlessly, failing to wrap around the woman but determinedly grasping at the white captain's _haori_.

It would have been a picture perfect scene, had Hirako not belted a deliberately huge and noisy yawn.

"Well, happy reunions are happy, but I'm missing out on my precious beauty sleep here. My skin will suffer," he drawled. "So if we could please hurry up and decide what to do with the kid? Oh, and just to set the record straight—I'm not gonna be the babysitter."

"Then I shall take the child." Kurotsuchi stepped forward with a smile that spelled pure evil. "I swear on the very essence of science and on the honor of the Twelfth Division that I shall take very good care of hi—"

"Absolutely not!" Ukitake barked.

Yoruichi cackled in her corner. "Do you plan on slicing and dicing him until you find whatever it is you are looking for, Kurotsuchi?"

"If that's how it is, then I shall take the child. At least all of you can rest easy—I have far more finesse than certain people when it comes to the matter of research," Urahara coughed into his hand discreetly.

"Kisuke!" Ukitake exclaimed, aghast. He turned determinedly towards the Soutaichou. "I shall take the child."

"Ehh, look, won't it be better if he stayed with people he's more comfortable with?" Ichigo stepped in. "I won't mind having him over for a few more days—"

"He will not be safe in the living world, Kurosaki." Byakuya turned a glare upon the Fifth's fukutaichou. "Surely even _you_ can comprehend that much."

"Now, now, children," Kyouraku chuckled nervously as aggressive glares began to circulate the room. "Let's all be nice—there's plenty to share."

"I will take him," Matsumoto volunteered, holding the child close. "I will take full responsibility. I ask of you to let me look after Toushirou, Soutaichou."

A ripple of silence echoed through the room, and then Soutaichou gave a nod. "Then so be it. Temporary custody of Toushirou-kun shall be given to Matsumoto-taichou until further notice. His presence is the first of its kind in the history of Seireitei; there is much to be considered. We cannot make rushed decisions anymore—we have seen how much damage that has cost us in the past."

There was another pause of silence, within which silent suppressed sighs of disappointment (and relief from Kyouraku) were heard.

"That will be all for tonight. Dismissed."

The simple dismissal effectively dissolved the tension inside the room, and once more, murmurs rose from its occupants, fully awake and still not quite believing what they were seeing. The Soutaichou was just about past the doors when Toushirou spoke once more.

"Onee-san, we can go to the Pillar tomorrow, right?" he asked, wide and innocent Persian green eyes peering up imploringly at the woman.

Matsumoto looked up to the Soutaichou, who gave a small nod. She smiled down at Toushirou. "Soutaichou says yes, we can go. But it'll be really cold tomorrow!"

"I don't mind!" Toushirou grinned up at her. "Will I be staying with onee-san tonight?"

"You can call me Ran-chan! Short for Rangiku—that's my name. I'll be taking care of you from now on. Don't worry; we'll have lots of fun!" Matsumoto took off her scarf and wrapped it around Toushirou instead. "Do you like books?"

"Yes!" Eagerly bouncing on his heels, Toushirou asked, "Do you have many books, Ran-san?"

Matsumoto pouted, "Ran-chan."

"…Ran-…san."

"I won't give you books if you don't call me Ran-chan."

"…but Ran-san is older than me!" Toushirou reasoned. "I can't call Ran-san 'Ran-chan'."

Laughing, Ichigo patted the pouting Matsumoto's shoulder. "He's got you beat, Rangiku-san. He's one smart kid."

Ukitake stepped forward and knelt to face the child. "I have many books I could lend you."

Emerald eyes widened. "Really?"

"Of course," nodded Ukitake. "I'll bring you some tomorrow, Shiro-chan."

"Thank you!" Toushirou's smile was so blindingly happy that the entire room could not help but grin along with him. However, after a second of pause, the face-splitting grin on the ecstatic child's face suddenly froze, and very very slowly, morphed into a scowl.

"Shiro-chan? What's wrong?"

"…don't call me 'Shiro-chan'!"

-

* * *

-

Intently trained upon the fluttering butterfly, Toushirou's keen eyes observed the swoop and lift of dark hues of blue, painting an elegant gradient of midnight on the tiny wings. Making care not to move the finger upon which the butterfly was resting, the boy slowly stood and headed towards the corner table, where a small vase was kept. In the vase was a single pristine white daffodil, the flower symbolizing the very essence of the Tenth Division.

Of course, little Toushirou spared not a single thought on this.

Lifting his finger very carefully, he deposited the butterfly upon the white daffodil, watching its midnight wings flutter delicately once more. The blue-black velvet wings were startling against the daffodil's pure white, but Toushirou decided he liked the contrast of color.

He settled back, rocking on his heels as he continued observing the little innocent butterfly perched upon the flower. The past few days were a jumble of confused images in his memory. Not to say, of course, that he failed to understand what was happening. (He was not dumb, thank you very much.) It was just that things were speeding past far too fast he failed to keep up. He was just a little child, after all.

Despite his youth, he had a grasp of the concept of life and death. He understood that this world was a different world, and that he was no longer in the "living" world. But in essence, he was still alive—only in a different world and in a different way.

He also understood that the people around him were well-meaning people. Orihime-nee-chan was nice, and so was Ran-san. Ichigo-nii-san was silly, but he was also very strong and could protect him. Urahara-ji-san was weird and a bit scary, but he was funny, especially when he was talking with Yoruichi-san.

But what he did not understand was why people were all making a big fuss of him. Remembering the previous night's meeting, he grimaced. He did not like the scary person with the funny voice and funny face (when he relayed his thoughts to Ran-san earlier, he learned that the scary person's name was Kurotsuchi-san). He also did not like how they all argued about who would take him. He was so glad when Ran-san was chosen!

"Shiro-chan? Are you ready? Hurry up, or we're gonna be late! Ichigo and the others are waiting!"

"Haai," he quietly called out, before bidding his butterfly goodbye. Snatching the empty _mochi _box from the floor, he headed for the door. It would not do to forget to return Ukitake-ji-san's box, not after he was given the delicious _mochi_ to snack on. He had to make sure to say thank you.

And to hope that he would get more sweets.

But of course, he would not say that, because it would be impolite.

-

* * *

-

Seireitei was met with beautiful blue skies and crisp winter air the following morning, a testimony to the heavenly guardian finally returned to their midst. News had traveled fast, and by midmorning most of the Twelve Divisions knew of the developments. The Tenth Division was particularly jubilant, some squads even going so far as throwing parties. Ichigo had to snatch Toushirou and flash away from the crowd to prevent the child from being suffocated by overly eager former subordinates. Of course, the ruckus settled when Matsumoto delivered a sharp scolding and reminded the squads that the child had no memories of his previous life.

He had heaved a sigh of relief, thinking he was off the hook.

Now holding Toushirou's hand as they approached the looming Pillar of Eternal Ice, however, Ichigo realized the worst had yet to come. He eyed the entourage flanking them as they progressed forward through snow and frost, brow twitching in annoyance. To his left, a number of indubitable idiots (namely Renji, Yumichika, Ikkaku, and crew) milled around gawking at the little child. To his right, Rukia, Matsumoto, Orihime, Ishida, and Chad were in some sort of conversation. Behind them were several captains, Ukitake, Urahara, and Kurotsuchi foremost (the rest were all either willing—such as Kyouraku and Yoruichi—or unwilling—such as Byakuya and Shuuhei—tag-alongs).

Little Toushirou, however, seemed not the least bit bothered by the number of gawking onlookers and observers. In fact, he seemed simply absorbed with the winter white, raking his warmly clad feet against the cold, wet, melting snow.

As they steadily grew nearer to the Pillar, the temperature steadily began to decrease. A fine mist of water vapor surrounded the base of the Pillar due to the sublimation of ice, but even then it was a few paces away from the Pillar itself. So cold was the ice used for the structure that one would only be able to step past the ring of vapor and approach the Pillar if one was unaffected by the cold, if one had a natural way of warding away the cold, or if one used a very potent_ kidoujutsu_ to counteract the bone-frost.

They stopped a few yards away from the vapor, the temperature already having dropped too far for them to move any further.

"This is as far as we can go, Shiro-chan," Matsumoto explained.

Toushirou's head snapped up. "Heh? But why?! We're so close!"

Teeth slightly chattering, Matsumoto knelt down. "Shiro-chan, don't you feel cold? Onee-chan is really cold."

Frowning, Toushirou shook his head in negation. Matsumoto glanced up at her fellow captains, particularly at Urahara, who nodded. They had already discussed the very likely possibility of the child possessing very similar (if not completely similar) abilities as the late Hitsugaya-taichou had. It seems they were right on the spot.

Detaching his hand from Ichigo's, Toushirou stumbled forward past the mist, leaving the rest of them behind. Matsumoto called out in alarm, surprised, but Urahara had a pacifying hand on her shoulder before she could move to retrieve the boy.

"Let him," Urahara coaxed. "We can still watch from here. If something happens, it's not that much of a distance. We can cover him."

"But—"

"Come now, Matsumoto-taichou. Are you not in the least bit curious how Hyourinmaru will react to the reincarnated soul of its previous wielder?" Kurotsuchi added. "This is brilliant opportunity to observe just how much the boy resembles Hitsugaya-taichou."

"I am curious as well."

Matsumoto frowned. "Ukitake-taichou!"

"Ah, let's have some faith in the child, shall we?" Kyouraku sighed. "He's obviously very capable of taking care of himself to a certain degree, and he certainly knows what he's doing." He nodded towards the Pillar. "Look."

All eyes turned to the boy, who was stumbling over himself in his eagerness to get closer. A few more steps and he stood right in front of the Pillar. He reached out.

_**Finally.**_

The moment Toushirou's palm flattened against the ice's burning cold surface, a riptide of pure, unadulterated power tore through the atmosphere, sending aftershocks rumbling through Seireitei.

Toushirou stumbled backwards, staring wide-eyed up at the great emerald-eyed ice dragon curled around the Pillar. For a moment, everything remained shock still. And then, slowly, as if waking from a long slumber, the dragon's eyes glinted, blinked. The tail very slowly unfurled from the base of the Pillar. Icy scales of white and blue and green glistened under the brilliant midmorning winter sun as the dragon unfurled its wings, unsheathed its claws, and reared its head into a deafening roar.

Ears ringing, Toushirou blinked furiously.

The dragon snorted a puff of icy mist, slithering around the Pillar and settling its eyes upon the boy. It reared its head as if to ready for a blow, and unhinged its jaws—

"_Mae, Sode no Shirayuki!_" (4)

A barrage of pure white ice forced the great dragon away from the startled child, and in a flash, Rukia was tugging the boy back.

"Onee-chan—"

"Don't worry, Toushirou, it'll be fine—"

The enraged dragon reared and charged, forcing Rukia to throw up another ring of ice to shield them—however, it was not enough. Hyourinmaru's brute force cracked Shirayuki's shield and shot straight through the more fragile, thinner ice, wounding Rukia's shoulder.

"Onee-chan!" "Rukia!"

Ignoring the wound, Rukia brandished her sword determinedly, despite knowing her attempts were futile. "_Tsugi no Mai, Hakuren!_" (5)A tidal wave of ice erupted from the tip of her sword, ripping through the winter air and blasting the dragon backwards. Beside her, Toushirou yelped in alarm. She knew she had to deliver another blow, at least enough to hold the dragon back until they got past the ring of mist—she was the only one who could bear the paralyzing cold and step inside, since she too was an ice-type wielder.

She lifted her sword, pouring her determination into one last blow, knowing full well that it would still be insufficient to defeat Hyourinmaru. However, before she could even speak the first of her attack, the dragon's tail whipped from where it was hidden in the mist—she ducked, tugging the child close to her, acting as a shield.

_**Do not interfere!**_

Again, the tail whipped, and she rolled out of the way. Rukia looked up, eyes widening as spikes of ice rained upon them—there was nowhere to run—

"_Chire, Senbonzakura._" (6)

A swarm of thousand petals cocooned Rukia and Toushirou, forming a secure shield against the spikes of ice, which, upon contact, shattered into a million shimmering pieces.

Seemingly unfazed by the cold, Byakuya strode forward, blade in hand. There was a furious glint in his eyes as he eyed Rukia's wound, and then a somewhat impressed yet confused appraisal when he gazed upon little Toushirou clutching and gently tugging on Rukia's sleeve.

"Onii-sama," Rukia breathed in relief. "Thank you."

Byakuya simply nodded. "Did the heavenly dragon say anything of importance? Any explanation, perhaps, of why it is attacking the child?"

"No, onii-sama, it simply told me not to interfere," Rukia explained. "Interfere in what, I do not know." Unable to ignore the insistent tugging on her sleeve anymore, Rukia turned to face Toushirou. "It'll be fine, Toushirou."

"No, onee-chan—"

A loud crash was the only warning they had before Byakuya's shield was slightly dented by a huge barrage of ice. Eyes narrowing, Byakuya frowned. A section of the shield parted upon his command and commenced attack on the great dragon, who grew even more enraged.

Throwing its head back in a gigantic roar that shook the very plateau they were standing on, Hyourinmaru reared and gathered energy into a ball, intent to hurl it at the three of them—

Ripping free of Rukia, Toushirou ran forward and spread his arms before the dragon just as Hyourinmaru was to release the ball of energy.

His next words froze the entire cliff.

"HYOURINMARU, STOP!"

-

* * *

-

Never had Urahara ever felt this intensity of wanting. Wanting to be closer, to be nearer, to get as close as a spectator could get. The words that rang from little Toushirou's mouth startled the entire clearing—not once did they ever tell him of Hyourinmaru's name—

And yet the child knew.

_The Pillar is sentient! No—more importantly, Toushirou has an established connection with Hyourinmaru!_

Beside him, Kurotsuchi was similarly struck speechless. Matsumoto had tears streaming down her cheeks, a hand covering her mouth in shock. Urahara wagered the repressed and supposedly forgotten memories were by now resurfacing to her consciousness.

"…i-is h-he alright?" Shivering Orihime was the first to break the silence. It was interesting how the girl had grown out of her shy shell and instead developed a new shell—a strong, almost impenetrable one that let her shrug off and smile at almost anything life could throw at her. In Urahara's very honest opinion, it was most probably evolution—it was her coping mechanism after having been through so many trials early in her life. It was not a surprise that this much just barely touched her.

"Y-yeah, he's… he's fine," Rukia's voice replied, cracked with surprise. Beside her, Byakuya sheathed his sword, and all eyes were once more upon the child.

Urahara watched very carefully, making sure to remember as much as he could—these things, he knew, were once in a lifetime, living world or not.

The dragon unfurled itself, its claws sinking into the Pillar's ice, crushing it. The sword inside, trapped in _shikai _release, was grabbed by a deft tail, and was transformed into the normal, sealed form. The dragon shrank, and shrank some more, until it was roughly as long as the sword. It touched its snout against the side of little Toushirou's head, as if to whisper something reserved only for the child's ears.

And then, with a flash of bright light, the dragon furled itself back around the sword and formed a solid sheath with the imprint of its own likeness on either side. The now sheathed and sealed sword hovered above Toushirou's outstretched hands for a few more seconds. Then the glowing stopped, the power halted, and the sword fell.

"Oof!"

The boy heaved the sword, too long and too heavy for his small body. Around him, chunks of ice, no longer supernaturally cold, lay scattered, bare remnants of what was once an elegant and forbidding heavenly Pillar.

There was a few more seconds of silence, interrupted only by Toushirou's grunts as he wrestled with the sword's weight. And then, as if snapping out of a trance, Matsumoto rushed forth, taking Toushirou by the shoulders. "Shiro-chan? Are you alright? Does anywhere hurt? Did the dragon hurt you?"

Toushirou looked up at the rest of them with wide eyes completely devoid of any trace of fear. "Why would Hyourinmaru hurt me? He's a very nice dragon." As if to emphasize his point, the child petted the sword lovingly. A shimmer of power ran down the length of the sword, as if the sword was purring its agreement.

"But it hurt Rukia-nee-chan," Orihime reminded Toushirou as she wedged herself in between a very worried Ichigo and an even more worried Renji (Byakuya did not make things easier by flanking his little sister). She called upon her _Shun Shun Rikka_ (7) and activated _Souten Kisshun_ (8) to begin healing Rukia's wound.

"Hyourinmaru was trying to talk to me, and Rukia-nee-chan suddenly attacked," Toushirou pointed out, as if the entire thing was common sense. To the child and to his dragon, it probably was. "Of course Hyourinmaru would get mad. I mean, its bad manners to interrupt people, right? Hyourinmaru said it was very important talk. And then when he tried getting to me, Rukia-nee-chan attacked again, so he had no choice to return attack. And then Kuchiki-taichou attacked too, so Hyourinmaru got even madder, since he didn't understand why people were trying to keep him away when he just wanted to talk."

The group stared at Toushirou, the explanation still not fully digested. The child (who was now sprawled over the snow due to the sword's weight and length) simply resumed the petting.

"So it's your fault," Renji blandly remarked, raising an eyebrow at Rukia.

Flushing, Rukia indignantly and very heatedly spluttered, "H-How was I supposed to know?!"

"Yeah, how was she supposed to know? I mean, if you were being snarled at by the dragon, wouldn't you draw _Zabimaru_?" Ichigo added.

"I wouldn't—… well, I would…" Renji scratched the back of his head.

Ichigo snorted. "Idiot."

"What the—oi! Watch who you're calling an idiot, idiot!"

Sensing an opportunity as the squabble escalated, Urahara strode forward and knelt beside the child. "Toushirou-kun, how did you learn Hyourinmaru's name?"

The question, so low it was almost a whisper, silenced the entire clearing once more.

Persian green eyes gazed up at Urahara, brimming with happiness and contentment, as if finally sated now that he was reunited with his dragon. "He's been talking to me since last night! He was the one who told me to come here and see the Pillar; he said he'd give me something!"

Urahara leaned back, simply staring at the child for a full moment. Then he turned to Kurotsuchi, who did not even need to hear his question in order to answer it.

"The earliest a _zanpakutou _bond can manifest is after at least ten years of stay within Soul Society, according to our research. Normally, the time gap allows for adjustment to the spirit particle density difference, as well as for the preliminary growth and development of _reiryoku_," Kurotsuchi stated.

Turning back to stare at Toushirou, Urahara contemplated for another second.

And then he gave a nod.

"Kuchiki-taichou," he began.

He settled a gentle hand upon Toushirou's head, raising his eyes to meet Byakuya's.

"I would like you to consider adopting Toushirou-kun into the Kuchiki clan."

-

* * *

**Tsuzuku**_  
(Unrevised Version)

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_

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**Kia Ixari / Aventria**_  
First Draft: 2008.09.18__  
Uploaded: 2008.10.28  
Last Revised: 2008.10.03_


	5. IV: A Gentle Dawn

**Child of the White Winter**  
Kia Ixari & Aventria

**2008.10.15: **Would you rather the chapters stay this long, or be a little bit shorter? Shorter chapters update faster. Longer chapters take a while to write and edit.

**Warning(s):** None in particular for this chapter.

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* * *

**IV**

Yasashii Yoake  
(A Gentle Dawn)

* * *

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**(1) konpeitou** – Japanese sugar candy.

**(2) Genryuusai-jiji** – lit: "old man Genryuusai"

**(3) Onmitsukidou** – Special Ops Kidou Corps

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* * *

-

Ultimately, they had to succumb to Toushirou's apparently innate stubbornness, deciding to wait for the child to fall asleep in order to pry Hyourinmaru away from the protective little arms. The boy refused to be parted from the sword, giving them a flat and blatant 'no', coupled with the beginnings of a very intimidating frosty glare. He simply sat on his cushion, content with petting the sword, holding a silent yet evidently meaningful conversation with the reawakened dragon through their mysterious spiritual bond.

Even the best of their researchers, Urahara and Kurotsuchi, could only offer theories to explain the bond between sword spirit and wielder—their current science still was inadequate, unable to fully comprehend how the swords acquire their spirits and choose their wielder. They were aware that the bond was as a contract, but how or why it is formed, they could only hazard their best guesses. There was an even lesser chance of finding a solid explanation for this exceptionally resilient reincarnated bond between Toushirou and Hyourinmaru.

Urahara proposed that, perhaps, it was Hyourinmaru who initiated the reincarnation right after Toushirou died, as if in a last and desperate attempt to save his wielder and ferry the soul somewhere safe, where it could recover and survive. As an end result, Urahara had stated earlier, this maintains the spiritual bond between them. Of course, this would imply that not only was Hyourinmaru extremely powerful, he was also able to control and utilize his own powers even without the presence of his wielder. A sword's sentience was common knowledge, but wielder-independent spirits were practically unheard of.

Sipping his tea, Urahara watched the child with awe and wonderment. _Then again, if there was ever anybody in history who would be able to show us impossible things, it would be _him_._

What an exceptional child this was, truly! He could not help but think of what could have been accomplished had they noticed Toushirou's abilities much earlier on. If they'd put him in special training during his academy years, his _reiryoku_ could have been much higher during his captaincy. He probably would have been able to tap into Hyourinmaru's more obscure powers as well.

He reckoned the younger Toushirou in his past lifetime in Soul Society had his _reiryoku_ sealed by something, perhaps a traumatic experience of the past. The past Toushirou also did not meet with Hyourinmaru until he stepped into the academy and moved past the level where carrying a sword was acceptable for a student, consequently shortening his time with his sword.

This Toushirou, however, went through reincarnation, which was basically a washing away of everything, leaving only the very core of the soul. This Toushirou was fresh, pure, and unbound, with overflowing _reiryoku_ unhampered and unadulterated.

This Toushirou was showing his talents far earlier and faster than the past Toushirou would ever have.

A chuckle from across the table caught Urahara's attention. His eyes moved from Toushirou and met Kyouraku's.

"When you stop and think about it, our younger generation is something to be proud of, no?" Kyouraku took a sip of _sake_ and reclined slightly. "Kurosaki Ichigo and his friends. Kuchiki Rukia. Matsumoto, Abarai, Hisagi, Kira, Madarame, the lot." He turned and watched Ukitake try (in vain) to persuade Toushirou to let go of the sword in exchange for a bag of _konpeitou_ (1). "And there's the little dragon over there too."

"If it's the younger generation, then you can count Byakuya-bou as well," Yoruichi yawned, currently in her cat form. She rolled over in Urahara's lap. "…and Ichimaru Gin. He was most certainly one of the best. Only, he ended up on the opposite side."

There was a momentary silence, within which Toushirou's resounding umpteenth 'NO' was heard across the room. Turning his back on Ukitake and Rukia, he shuffled off to a corner and hugged his sword closer.

"Look, can't we just let the kid keep the sword?" Ichigo sighed, scratching the back of his head. "It's not like he can draw it from the sheath anyway."

"We can't just let him keep a potential danger!" Rukia bristled. "He's a _child_, Ichigo—he's not Hitsugaya-taichou!"

Ichigo gave her a bland stare. "I know that, Rukia. But I also know that Hyourinmaru remembers. The dragon wouldn't hurt Toushirou; in fact, it'd probably be Toushirou's best protection against anything! Shouldn't we at least show a little trust here?"

Frowning, Rukia conceded, but rose to pose another front. "Would it be advisable to let him do whatever he wants with the sword, though?"

"I don't think we have any other choice but to surrender to him, Kuchiki-kun," Ukitake sighed, retreating. He tucked the bag of specially made _konpeitou_ back into the inner folds of his robes. "Toushirou-kun seems completely convinced that he will be keeping Hyourinmaru. I don't think it's a matter of simply _wanting_ to keep the sword anymore—it's a matter of _needing_ the sword nearby. Perhaps it calms him, somehow."

The sliding paper doors from the far side of the room slid open, revealing an ever-stoic Kuchiki Byakuya followed by a tight-lipped Matsumoto.

Urahara looked up at them. "Has it been decided, then?"

"The Soutaichou has given his permission," Byakuya stated in his usual indifferent manner. "However, there still remain the Kuchiki clan elders. It will not be an easy persuasion."

"Then we will simply have to put up a solid front," said Yoruichi. Her slit-eyed golden gaze swung towards the shuffling Toushirou. "Those old and rotting geezers should know better than to tickle a sleeping dragon. If they don't, well, that just gives us a show to look forward to, doesn't it?"

After Hyourinmaru's reawakening, they'd immediately notified the Soutaichou, making sure to keep Toushirou indoors and safely within sight. It was not hard to keep the child still—he seemed far too preoccupied with his new companion to care about anything else. He was content to sit and cuddle with the sword, keeping it close even through his meals.

The afternoon was spent with much heated discussion between Matsumoto, Urahara, Byakuya, and Ukitake with regards to the aforementioned adoption into the Kuchiki clan. Urahara thought it appropriate to give their newest prodigy the best education Soul Society could offer, but Ukitake was quite apprehensive about handing Toushirou over to the noble families.

On the contrary, Byakuya seemed to see Urahara's point and agree. He moved to reassure Ukitake that should he ever adopt Toushirou, the boy would be safe from meddling hands and family politics. Despite their considerably heavy influence upon the noble family's businesses and traditions, the elders would not be able to direct how Byakuya handled his immediate nuclear family. There were explicit rules forbidding any such actions within the clan, with exceptions only for extreme and emergency cases.

Matsumoto, however, was a different matter.

Ichigo watched the Tenth's captain seat herself beside Toushirou, effectively calling the child's attention. Beaming happily up at her, Toushirou began relaying his conversation with Hyourinmaru, arms waving about in animate illustration.

Leaning towards Urahara and lowering his voice, Ichigo asked, "Is this really okay? Rangiku-san is obviously not happy with this."

"She's not happy, but she realizes that it's for the best," Urahara murmured. "Kuchiki-taichou will be able to provide for Toushirou in ways that she alone won't be able to. The boy will need a family; a father figure, most importantly—someone to identify with. Security, comfortable living, a proper family structure, a proper home. Besides, it's not like they won't see each other anymore."

"Still…" Ichigo sighed, toying with his teacup.

"Toushirou needs instruction, Ichigo. His abilities are vast and varied—don't you feel the sheer amount of _reiryoku _he already possesses? And the potential! He needs to be taught how to control his own powers, else he hurt himself, or someone else."

"Well, there's the Academy…"

Urahara shook his head. "They aren't geared towards special cases like Toushirou. The lessons given to students in the Academy are generalized—they won't even begin to cover the topics Toushirou really needs to understand. Control of his _reiryoku_, for one. The Academy only goes over the basics of _kidou_—only the first forty-five spells—and does not even touch on the more advanced and specialized theories, which are the ones he eventually needs to learn. He will also need very early instruction on how to control Hyourinmaru—even just the basics of it. The Academy can't provide that; they don't cater well to extremely young students."

Leveling Ichigo with a catty frown, Yoruichi asked, "Don't tell me you seriously considered placing such a special child under the care of the Academy."

Ichigo flushed and spluttered. "H-How should I know?! I've no idea what to expect about the Academy anyway!"

"Knowing Ichigo," Ishida snorted from where he was seated beside Orihime, "he probably assumed that the Academy cannot possibly be substandard by looking at its products. He didn't even stop and consider that we have only been acquainted with the best of Soul Society."

Yoruichi sniffed. "Still an ignorant brat. Half the people you know here did not go through the Academy's standardized training. Byakuya-bou had his personal instructors—much like Toushirou will have his own—some of them captain-class. Jyuushirou and Shunsui both were personally instructed by Genryuusai-jiji (2). Both Kisuke and I had specialized training as well. Soi Fong was trained privately by her family, retainers of the Shihouin clan and producers of the best _onmitsukidou_ (3) warriors."

"But Renji and Rukia—"

"—were hardworking students, and continued their training and study even after graduating," Yoruichi continued for Ichigo. "Of course the Academy produces good warriors. There is no question in that. But sometimes, there comes cases they cannot handle. Byakuya-bou would not be as strong as he is had he gone through ordinary Academy training. Similarly, it would do Toushirou's talents injustice as well if we left him in the ignorant care of the Academy's generalized curriculum. Surely even an idiot like _you_ can understand that much."

Ichigo grunted. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. So Toushirou needs special attention. Who will teach him, then? Does the Kuchiki clan have special instructors reserved for these cases or something?"

"That's easily decided. We worry about that later," Yoruichi shrugged, sprawling herself upon the table and purring as Urahara reaches over to scratch her chin. "First, you've got to get that child to let go of the sword and get him into bed."

The table turned to the child still huddled in his tiny corner. Dinner was an hour ago, and even then, Toushirou insisted upon keeping the sword close. It seemed even Matsumoto was not having any luck with persuading the child.

"…just for a bit, Toushirou-kun," Matsumoto pleaded with the child.

"No, Ran-san," Toushirou firmly said.

Ichigo sighed. "Let's just grab the sword."

With a mischievous catty grin, Yoruichi said, "Sure, go ahead. You're welcome to try."

"You'll be sleeping with frostbite tonight," snickered Rukia.

Before Ichigo could even leave the table, though, Byakuya rose and made his way to the child, effectively silencing Matsumoto's persuasion. Crouching down to Toushirou's eye level, Byakuya said, "Toushirou."

Feeling the heavy gaze, Toushirou straightened himself, sword still in lap. "Yes, sir."

Back by the table, Ichigo's eye ticked. He nudged Rukia. "Your brother's not going to threaten the kid or anything, right?"

"Idiotic fool!" Rukia hissed under her breath, swatting said substitute _shinigami_ upside the head. "Onii-sama wouldn't stoop so low!"

"Do you know who I am?" Byakuya seated himself in front of the child with his usual flawless grace.

Toushirou promptly answered, "Kuchiki Byakuya-taichou." The child's eyes were trained upon the rather intimidating yet respectable man before him, attentively observing, perpetually curious.

Byakuya continued, "I need to tell you something very important. Will you listen carefully?"

The boy nodded.

"I came to tell you that you will be joining my family very soon."

"W-What Byakuya-nii-sama is saying," Rukia interrupted, rushing over and glancing apprehensively at Byakuya, "is that we would like you to join our family, Toushirou-kun."

The boy blinked. "I can't stay with Ran-san?"

Matsumoto smiled sadly and petted the child's downy hair. "I'd like you to stay, Shiro-chan, but I won't be able to provide for you as well as Kuchiki-taichou will be. Over there you'll be able to read and study as much as you like, and you'll have your own tutors to teach you. And you'll have Rukia-nee-chan and Kuchiki-taichou to look after you. Do you understand?"

"Oh," Toushirou voiced, nodding. The boy was obviously disappointed. After a small pause, he then turned towards Byakuya and politely asked, "Will I still be able to see Ran-san, sir?"

"Of course," nodded the noble.

"Okay then," Toushirou smiled, satisfied.

Matsumoto nodded to Byakuya, moving away and leaving the child in the other captain's care. Her eyes, though, showed strong reluctance tethered only by sheer willpower. The lady captain obviously wanted to care for the child herself—and it was not unreasonable of her, considering her previous relation with said reincarnated soul.

Byakuya once more turned to Toushirou, pausing to consider his words upon Rukia's glance. He then carefully spoke, "I will have to ask you to give me the sword, Toushirou."

Toushirou's face clouded once more, an upset frown marring the child's inherently beautiful face. "But…"

"You can talk to Hyourinmaru again tomorrow," Byakuya smoothly assured the child, "but only if you let me keep him for tonight."

The child looked down at the sword currently seated in his lap. Only attuned eyes would have seen the shimmer of air around the sword—Toushirou frowned.

"Why can't I keep him?" he asked, glancing back up at Byakuya. And then, as an afterthought, added, "Sir."

Byakuya patiently explained, "You need to sleep, Toushirou, and you do not sleep with your sword in the bed. You might cut yourself. You do not know how to handle your sword yet."

"Will I be able to keep him after I learn?" the boy immediately asked, seeking for a middle ground. And then added, "Sir."

Toushirou's attentive eyes caught the corner of Byakuya's mouth lift in a slight half-smile. The older man was hard to read, but the feat was not impossible—Byakuya was mildly amused. Toushirou relaxed, knowing that he had gained the first preliminary approval from his father-to-be.

"Yes, you will, child," Byakuya steadily replied.

"Then when will I start learning?" Toushirou eagerly asked, leaning forward in his seat. "Sir."

"When you become a part of the family, Toushirou. But for now, I need to keep him. Do not worry—he will be well taken care of."

Toushirou nodded slowly, hesitating. He fully understood the reason, but the need to stay beside his dragon spirit was strong enough to make him waver. Hyourinmaru's soft rumble echoed through their bond—the dragon agreed with Byakuya. But even so, he was hesitant. Would Hyourinmaru be well within the hands of someone else?

But in conclusion of his lightning-quick internal conflict, he realized he had no choice. He had to hand Hyourinmaru over if he wanted to learn, and he needed to learn so he would be able to keep Hyourinmaru.

He sighed in surrender. He petted the sword one last time as if bidding the dragon spirit goodnight. There was another considerably stronger shimmer, and then Toushirou lifted the sword—with some effort—and handed it carefully to Byakuya.

"Please take care of him," Toushirou said. He smiled sheepishly as he forgot once more, and added, "Sir."

Byakuya took the sword in hand and nodded. He extended a hand and gently patted Toushirou's head, eliciting a jolt of surprise from Rukia. "When you sleep tonight and dream, you will see him again." A smile lit Toushirou's face.

Nodding to Matsumoto, who was about to take Toushirou home to sleep, Byakuya rose and made his way back to the table, where a piping cup of tea was waiting for him. Ichigo goggled wonderingly at him, while Rukia sat herself with a small smile. Urahara and Kyouraku merely shared a chuckle.

"Impressive," Yoruichi grinned, now somewhat half-seated on Urahara's thigh. "I wouldn't have imagined you to be capable with children, Byakuya-bou. Not even Jyuushirou was able to persuade the kid!"

Byakuya merely ignored Ichigo's (rather distracting) goggling and sipped his tea, Hyourinmaru aligned with Senbonzakura at his side. "He is an intelligent child. There is no need for extravagant persuasion—if properly explained to, he will see reason and understand the situation."

"Indeed," Kyouraku nodded. "Byakuya understands the child well. Nobody _did_ try to explain to the kid properly."

"Then again, we're still learning what he can do and how much he can understand," Ukitake said, contemplative. "There's so many possibilities when it comes to that child."

There was a silence of agreement.

Which was unceremoniously broken when Urahara flipped his fan open, hiding an impish grin behind it. "Araa~. It seems Kuchiki-taichou will make the perfect Daddy for Toushirou-kun, don't you think?"

An eyebrow ticked.

-

* * *

-

Tiredly, Ichigo tried to work his neck muscles, feeling pressure build-up, which was usually indicative of an incoming tension headache. _Shinigami_ work coupled with university most definitely did not go well with each other. It made him a horribly hectic and unbelievably inconvenient life.

_But then again_, he thought to himself, _inconvenience is a staple requirement for my daily living._

His eyes thoughtfully scanned over Seireitei's nightscape, noting that from this angle as he sat on the roof of the Tenth captain's residential house, he overlooked the entirety of the Tenth division. It stretched out before him endlessly—he could not even see the high walls bordering Seireitei and Rukongai. He faintly wondered if from the other residential captain houses, he would be able to see the corresponding divisions as well.

"What are you doing?"

Starting, Ichigo turned to see Rukia standing atop the roof, watching him. Having known her for so long, he'd become extremely used to her _reiatsu_ that there were times when he didn't even detect her nearing anymore if he was not paying proper attention or was otherwise occupied.

He shook his head at himself and sighed. "Not much. Just looking at the scenery, I guess?" Ichigo turned back to the sprawling Tenth division.

"Scenery?" snorted Rukia, seating herself beside him. "What scenery? This is pitch black darkness, idiot."

And indeed it was. It was as if a shroud of deep ebony cloaked over the entirety of Soul Society, penetrated only by tiny glowing pinpricks of golden lamplight. The moon was waning up high, shedding an inconsequential amount of moonlight. The stars were nowhere to be found.

"…it's been a while since you've visited the living world, hasn't it." It was not so much a question as it was a statement. Both of them knew as much.

"Perhaps it has," Rukia sighed. "Here, in Soul Society, time seems to pass by slowly. So slow that the passing seasons seem endless, and you lose count of how many days, weeks, months it has been. I would never have noticed it's already been four years since had you not kept with your monthly visits here."

They both knew what was to come within the conversation, but both were unwilling to breach the sturdy barrier of silence.

Ichigo shifted in his seat. Shuffled his feet. Adjusted his haori.

He liked to think that he understood Rukia's situation. He knew he didn't, not really. He didn't live under the same pressure and expectation Rukia did with the Kuchiki clan. He didn't have a complicated relationship with a brother-in-law who probably would count as one of the hardest people to talk to. He didn't have the same duties as a full-time _shinigami_ as she did.

He sighed.

He would never fully understand Rukia. Not this way. He knows this. Rukia had seen and lived through things he could only even begin to imagine. She was a mere sixteen years shy of a hundred years old. The passing of time was something Ichigo knew left a permanent imprint on a person, and that imprint helped define that person. If he could not understand that imprint (and he was pretty sure he would not be able to in his current state), he would never be able to fully comprehend that person.

_But I want to _try.

If only trying was that easy.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words were stuck, scratching, suffocating, in his throat. The sentences were rough, too rough. He knew they would make him—no, _both_ of them—bleed. But did he have any other choice? Should he make excuses, Rukia would only see through them. Should he skirt the issue, it would simply come back later to haunt him.

_If only trying was that easy._

Rukia was all sorts of things – a friend, a sister, a warrior, a comrade. She brought with her happiness and joy, bitterness and anger, sadness and grief. And with all of this she came barging into Ichigo's life, upending the very foundation of reality and keeping it that way, upside-down.

Ichigo's medical mind parroted that psychologically speaking, it was natural that Ichigo was attracted to the girl, despite whatever her faults might be. Someone who's had such a strong and lasting impact on him would surely catch attention.

But he knew that that was not all of it. That _couldn't_ be all of it.

The brave warrior he saw within those fiercely burning eyes whenever they fought back to back, the caring friend he glimpsed whenever he would look into warm eyes as they walked side by side, the loving and devoted sister he'd only ever seen once when she was caring for Byakuya.

The way she stood beside him through thick and thin, the way she believed in him during times of duress, the way she kept him up but kept him humble, the way she gave her all to support him whenever he was in a struggle—

_Trying is not easy._

"Will you come with me to visit the living world for a while?"

There was moonlight, pale moonlight.

"Yuzu and Karin both say hello, and insist you come over for dinner once," Ichigo continued. "I highly suggest against it—Dad will be extremely annoying, far more than usual. He's been like that since I moved out. I think he's ran out of people to annoy, that's why."

A paltry breeze sifted through Ichigo's slightly longer hair, chilling them as they sat under the wintry midnight skies. The silence was unbearable, but Ichigo bore through it, for it was all he could do, really.

"I can't, Ichigo."

_Trying is not easy, because I know—I have always known—what your answer is going to be._

"I can't," she said, gently and absently wringing her hands. "I have to stay here. I'm needed here. I have duties—"

"—as a shinigami, yes, I know," snapped Ichigo, though his voice was kept and controlled. _Knowing that I still ask you. Can't you see?_

There was a lengthy pause.

Rukia murmured, "I'm sorry."

Sighing for the third time, Ichigo shuffled his legs. He shook his head. "No. No, _I'm_ sorry." There really was nothing more to it than this, he thought to himself. But it was so hard to try, especially when failure was looking you in the face. "It's okay, I understand."

_I just want your company._

There was not anything else to it other than that.

"Take care of yourself, Rukia. Don't overwork yourself, okay?" he gave her a grin, though he knew she would see the falseness of it.

His hands, they brushed against fallen snow. The tiled rooftop felt warm in comparison to his stiff and frozen fingers. This was why he was hesitant to try. Because trying would rip away the rocking, warm comfort of a lie.

_Truth is rarely pure, and never simple._

A whisper of a breath and the rustle of cloth—and then he was gone.

-

* * *

-

Morning dawned upon Seireitei, and still the wintry skies were at peace. There was not a single sign of the violent snowstorms that used to plague said skies—it was as if they'd never existed at all.

Inside a small solitary room within the Tenth division's captain residency, a little boy was cocooned in a warm confusion of wool and mink and cotton. Said boy was nestled in such softness and comfort so heavenly that not even the prolonged and undoubtedly incessant ringing of the borrowed alarm clock by his bedside woke him from his deep slumber.

It was not until much later, when a fully dressed Matsumoto prepared for the day's duties came by his room and checked on him, did he finally wake (and very grudgingly so). The Tenth division captain had great difficulty coaxing the boy up, and it took an entire fifteen minutes of active persuasion to get him to reluctantly part from the bed.

"What's wrong, Shiro-chan? Yesterday you were up early," Matsumoto worried. "Are you feeling sick?"

"No," Toushirou groggily rubbed an eye and yawned. "Bed comfy. Hyourinmaru."

"Hyourinmaru?" echoed Matsumoto. As if to check, her eyes darted towards the bed and confirmed that there was no sword on the futon beside the boy.

With a sleepy smile, Toushirou sank back into his soft bed and said, "Hyourinmaru was in my dream, just like Kuchiki-taichou told me." He rolled over, burying his face into his pillow. "I like Kuchiki-taichou."

Matsumoto flinched.

"Do you, now?" she silently said, tugging Toushirou up and helping him roll up the futon. Her smile was a conflicted smile, but she hoped it didn't show.

"He doesn't lie to me," Toushirou explained. "He's never lied to me yet. I hope he doesn't ever." The child happily continued to arrange his futon and blankets, making sure to properly fold them and set them by the far wall.

With a half-hearted smile, Matsumoto watched the child. All night she had tried to reason against her selfish want to keep Toushirou close by beside her, to keep the child near and away from any danger. She knew that the Kuchiki clan was one of the best, if not _the_ best, noble houses currently present, and that they would be the best choice for a child as special as Toushirou. And so she reasoned.

_But reason doesn't really work well against emotions._

Her smile was wry as she realized how she sounded. She could easily be mistaken for a mother reluctant to let go of a growing child. She sighed to herself. _Really, I'm too young to be suffering under separation anxiety. This doesn't do well for my beauty._

"Ran-san."

"Mm?" Her eyes returned to the boy, who was staring quite pointedly at her. The child was clutching his clothes in his hands. "Oh! Right." She giggled, stood, and left the room so the boy could dress.

_Amazing how fast he grows_, she remarked to herself. The boy was already as responsible as any child two or three years older than his actual chronological age. Very capable of taking care of himself at the very basic level, Toushirou was a very easy child to watch over.

_Which is most certainly a good thing, considering who he's going to live with soon enough._

Kuchiki Byakuya was not on the top of her list of candidates for possible parents for Toushirou. Of course, her list was largely biased, with her at the very top. But in this particular case, the bias was negligible. Byakuya was most definitely _not_ a person who enjoyed the company of children. She wasn't even _sure_ he knew how to take care of children!

She had to admit, though, that she was impressed with how easily Byakuya dealt with Toushirou the night before. Sighing, she strove to make compromise with her own feelings. It wasn't as if she wouldn't see Toushirou anymore. She would be right there. She could even check on him daily, if she made the proper adjustments to her schedule.

_I have to talk to him, though. Poor child cannot possibly know what to expect…_

She didn't have to wait long, for Toushirou was quick to wash his face and don his clothes. When the boy came out of the room, fully wrapped in warm winter clothing, Matsumoto knelt down and took the boy by his shoulders. She gently adjusted his clothes, and made sure the scarf was snug around the neck.

"Shiro-chan," she began. Pursing her lip, she took a pause for a deep breath. "Shiro-chan—"

"It's okay, Ran-san." With small hands, Toushirou reached over and patted her either cheek. "I promise I'll visit a lot. And Kuchiki-taichou is really nice! I'm sure he'll let you visit too."

…_I didn't have to say anything. _Matsumoto was paralyzed by surprise._ He knew._

A chuckle escaped her, and she couldn't help but land a kiss on top of Toushirou's small nose. "Such a smart child, aren't you?"

Wrinkling his nose, Toushirou giggled. "Tickles!" He pulled away, but left a hand to pet Matsumoto's tresses. With intelligent and compassionate eyes, he said, "Ran-san shouldn't be sad. Ran-san's too pretty to be so sad."

Matsumoto couldn't help but smile, seeing a shadow of her late captain shining through the child. Truly, they were of the same soul. Ruffling his hair, she drew back and said with a serious countenance, "Alright, then, Shiro-chan. Let's make a deal. I won't be sad anymore if you promise that you will take care of yourself. Okay?"

Toushirou nods. "I promise!"

She continued, "Staying with the Kuchiki clan will teach you many things, but it will not be easy. Kuchiki-taichou will protect you and take care of you, but he has his own duties. You have to learn to take care of yourself. Rukia-nee-chan will be there, though, so you can go to her."

The boy frowned. "Kuchiki-taichou seems nice. He's just very quiet. But that's okay. I like that."

"You can talk to Kuchiki-taichou too, of course," Matsumoto amended. "After all, from here on, he…"

There was a lengthy pause.

"Ran-san?"

With great effort, Matsumoto said, "From here on, he will be your father."

Toushirou nodded again and petted Matsumoto's hair. "No crying," he firmly stated, frowning at Matsumoto in what was supposed to be a serious and intimidating manner.

The (adorably cute) frown simply made Matsumoto laugh.

-

* * *

-

Whenever there was a heavy decision to be made, Byakuya made sure to seek opinion from his grandfather, his parents, and his late wife, Hisana. Only, he had but mere memories of them, so at best, all he could do was give his best guess on what they would have to say.

Hopefully he knew them well enough to anticipate what their answers would have been. His grandfather, his foremost mentor, certainly taught him well, giving him a set of principles to govern his decisions. They spent enough time together for him to be able to accurately assume what his grandfather's opinions and suggestions would be, which was primarily the reason why he always sought his grandfather first.

This time, though, his memories drew him a blank.

The prospect of having a child was something he had considered a long time ago, when Hisana was still alive. He was young and foolish, blind and in love. Hisana, however, had not wanted a child. She did not need to say it for him to be able to feel it. As such, he did not push the issue, and it was walled off and never again breached, more so after her death.

His decision to take Toushirou was, with full honesty, impulsive. He hadn't a single inkling on what possessed him to agree with Urahara's sudden suggestion, but he did anyway, and it was done. He was quite apprehensive at the idea of being responsible for a child, never having dealt with one before.

But it seems his fears were unfounded.

The child was an unarguably smart child, though probably a little too inquisitive for his own good. (Then again, he was pretty sure that most children had a tendency to be far too curious about things, so that was alright.) He had no doubts that Toushirou would be more than capable of handling life as a noble. The boy was certainly responsible enough to take care of himself, and was already showing aptitude for strategic thinking, which was the first and foremost requirement for dealing with politics. Not that he _wanted_ to involve the child in such things—it was simply inevitable that there _would_ be involvement, as a member of the Kuchiki main house. It was better to have the child ready.

Whether by luck or accident, Byakuya did not know, but when he arrived at the doors of the Fourth division's medical halls, he found himself blissfully alone in the morning silence. There was audible shuffling from inside the inner quarters as he made his way into one of the waiting rooms, an indication that the day was already underway for the medical staff.

He did not have to wait long, though, before the Fourth captain bowed into the room and bid him a pleasant morning.

"Toushirou-kun and Matsumoto-taichou are on their way and will be here in a few moments," Unohana notified him. "The check-up will only take about half an hour, and then you will be on your way."

Byakuya nodded. The moment she finished speaking, there was a flurry of activity behind her, and in through the door came her vice, Isane, guiding Matsumoto, who was tugging along a flushed but evidently happy Toushirou.

"Ohayou!" Toushirou chirped, giving a little bouncy wave. He beamed when he saw Hyourinmaru tucked safely at Byakuya's side with Senbonzakura.

"Ohayou, Toushirou-kun, Matsumoto-taichou," Unohana smiled, her usual kindness just a little bit brighter as she saw the cheerful child. She knelt to his eye level and asked, "How are you feeling today, Toushirou-kun?"

"Very good, thanks," he smiled brightly.

Unohana nodded. "We shall start with the check-up immediately so you can be on your way with Kuchiki-taichou. Have you had breakfast yet?"

"Not yet," Toushirou replied, giving a sheepish grin. "I woke up late today." He wiggled as Matsumoto divested him of his outer layers of clothing.

"He did sleep quite a bit late last night," mentioned Matsumoto. "And he doesn't seem sick."

"Quite the opposite," Unohana remarked as she started taking temperature and heart rate. "Pulse is strong, and he's sufficiently warm but not too hot. Seems perfectly healthy—children's bodies are quite remarkable when it comes to recovery, resistance, and repair—but just to be sure, we are going to check him all through." She turned to Toushirou and gave him a kind and reassuring smile, the type she'd mastered over years of dealing with patients—both the good and the bad ones. "Don't you worry. It'll be over before you know it."

Toushirou nodded, and was ushered back out the door towards a small clinic where the necessary equipments were located. Matsumoto and Byakuya both fell back, watching the boy attentively converse with Unohana and answer her probing questions.

"Shiro-chan mentioned seeing Hyourinmaru in his dreams last night," Matsumoto began without preamble.

"I would have expected as much," Byakuya replied in his usual steady voice. "A bond as strong as his and Hyourinmaru's is a bond to respect. I do recall the late Hitsugaya-taichou mentioning dreams of a dragon and a plain of snow prior to his wielding Hyourinmaru."

Deigning not to ask the stoic captain of where he acquired such private information, Matsumoto continued, "Will these dreams continue? Will they have some sort of negative side-effect?"

"I cannot pretend I know everything regarding the contract between sword and wielder, but I do know that this is a symptom of growing power. But as long as he is taught the proper way of controlling his powers, I do not see any problem with it. On the contrary, it might only deepen their bond."

Nodding, Matsumoto returned to silence. With a slight start, she realized this was probably the most she'd ever heard Byakuya say. She couldn't help but wonder if that said anything about his concern for Toushirou.

The rest of the check-up passed in a blur of white. They watched as Unohana drew blood from a brave and relatively unflinching Toushirou. They watched as a myriad of tests were performed on the child, and were reassured by each one that he was in perfect health despite whatever trauma he might have gone through during the brief time he wandered as a soul in the living world.

Soon enough, Unohana was giving Toushirou a few last explicit instructions to eat enough, be careful when playing, and sleep early. Matsumoto helped tuck the child back into the warmer clothing, and they made their way to the Fourth's front gates, where Toushirou delighted in sinking half his legs into the pristine white snow.

Matsumoto gently took him by the shoulders and gave him one last peck on the cheek. "You'll be going with Kuchiki-taichou now, Shiro-chan. You be a good boy, alright?"

Toushirou nodded resolutely, and gave Matsumoto two wet kisses on each cheek, giggling as they rubbed noses. And then he was handed over to Byakuya, who placed a warm and steady hand upon Toushirou's shoulder.

"Please take care of him, Kuchiki-taichou." Matsumoto looked up at Byakuya, her frost blue eyes reflecting sobriety. "He's a precious child."

Byakuya inclined his head in respect to her wishes. "I will. You are welcome to visit him anytime."

"You promised to come and play, Ran-san!" Toushirou cheerfully reminded her.

A few more words and the two of them were leaving, headed towards the general direction of the Kuchiki manor. Toushirou gave one lively wave to Matsumoto, before turning his back and grasping Byakuya's offered hand.

Matsumoto's tears fell upon smiling lips as they blurred into the wintry whiteness.

-

* * *

**Tsuzuku**_  
(Unrevised Version)

* * *

_

**Kia Ixari / Aventria  
**_First Draft: 10.26.08__  
Updated: 12.21.08  
Last Revised: 10.26.08_


End file.
